Caribbean Secrets
by Missie DuCaine
Summary: Two girls, one gold medallion. I wish it hadn't happened, but can't be happier that it did. Welcome to the Caribbean, lasses. (COMPLETED!)
1. A Peice of Gold

**Caribbean Secrets**

Summary: Two girls, one gold medallion. I wish it hadn't happened, but can't be happier that it did. Welcome to the Caribbean, lasses.

Rating: PG-13, to play it safe for now.

Archiving: You'd _want_ to?! Umm....sure. Just ask, I suppose. 

Disclaimer: _Pirates of the Caribbean_ is owned by Disney....they own everything....and I do not. I have no money. Bug them. Christine belongs to...me! Mwa ha! Well, no, she doesn't...I suppose she belongs to her mother and father, or something. I do, however, own _me_, and if you want to use me for a story (HA!) please ask me first. Sue me, because I am a poor student who will need to take out a loan to pay for _school_, much less lawsuits. Thank you.

* * *

I wish I could explain what happened.

I wish there was some concrete reason that I could point to, say "There! That's it!" I wish that there was some way of determining the how and the why, if for no other reason than to ensure that it wouldn't happen again.

I can't do that, though. I have no _idea_ how it happened, and even my vague inklings at why don't really explain anything very well. All I can say is that _something_ happened, something totally unexpected, something that boggled even my imagination, and my imagination is pretty darn hard to boggle. I don't know if the circumstances are reproduce-able - all I know is that they scare me.

It's really all my fault. I was home - albeit for less than 24 hours. Just long enough to gather up the last few things for school; unwind from two months working at the summer camp with screaming, yelling, and otherwise miserable children; say good-bye to friends, family and distant relations; then head back out again.

My best friend's sixteenth birthday had been the weekend before, and as I had been four hours away without a car at the time, I had obviously missed it. Now, as I was headed out to University the next afternoon, and I wouldn't see her again until Thanksgiving, I decided that I had to do something really special for Christine's birthday. So when I found out, to my shock, that she had _not_ been to see _The Pirates of the Caribbean _yet, I knew immediately what I had to do.

That was how we found ourselves standing in front of our small-town one-screen theatre that Saturday night. Frankly, I was impressed that it was still playing in our one-horse hometown, until Christine pointed out that the Aztec didn't get any movie until at least a month after everyone else had seen it dozens of times and gotten disgustingly tired of it. Perhaps _that _was why there was no lineup to speak of, and why once we'd paid ($5.25 for Christine, $6.50 for me - darn those stupid adult prices, anyway) and split the cost on a large popcorn, two Vanilla Cokes, and a bag of peanut M&Ms, we were able to grab our favorite seats - dead centre.

"So, there's lots of Orli, right?" Christine asked, glancing at me in the dim theatre light.

Orlando Bloom was the reason I couldn't believe that Christine hadn't seen this movie yet. Let's just say, when I gave her a Legolas action figure last Christmas, her squeals of "Oh, he's so _HOT_!?" had the entire church turning in their seats to glare at us.

"CC," I assured her, "Between Orlando and Johnny, you will not have a single drool-less moment during this movie."

Her teeth flashed in the dimness, as she turned her trademark Christine grin on me. "Ooh, I like the sounds of _that_," she laughed.

"Ooh-!" I gasped, excited, as the lights dimmed even further, and the soft-rock playing over the speakers faded. "Here we go!"

The first advertisement (they are to be expected, I suppose) came up, and even halfway through it, I leaned over and hissed, "We're here to watch a movie about _pirates_, and they're trying to tell us to stop piracy?!"

Christine giggled, and leaned over. "Seems a little redundant, doesn't it?"

The car commercial (and the mental picture Christine stuck in my head with a particularily old inside joke) sent us into insane snickering that drew glares from the five other people in the theatre. I reminded myself (again) that I had to tell my mother that a movie adaptation was coming out for a book by one of her favorite authors with the announcement of _ The Runaway Jury_, and when the adverts _finally_ ended, both Christine and I were both getting a little edgy for it to start. 

So when mist began to roll across the screen, I sat up a little straighter, grin fighting its way across my face. This was, as I had firmly maintained ever since the first time I saw it, the best movie ever (with the possible exceptions of _The Matrix_ and the _Lord of the Rings_ movies).

Now, I had given the other inhabitants of the room little attention, though now I realize that I probably _should_ have. Looking back now, I seem to recall a couple making out in the back row; two teenaged girls not much older than 14, watching the screen, enthralled, having probably watched this at _least_ five times; and, in the row behind us, some guy with a weird, big hat. 

That guy was probably someone I should have paid attention to, but man, Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp were going to be up on the screen, and that demanded my full attention!

So when something rolled across the floor, sounding like a tinkling coin, it seemed, at first, to be nothing more than an irritation. But then it bounced off my flip-flop clad ankle, and I looked away from Elizabeth's vision of a floating umbrella to see a large, gold coin sitting beside my foot. I bent to pick it up, and when my fingers brushed the cool metal, I felt a strange, spreading coldness racing through my fingers and up my arm. Lifting it up, I felt the blood drain from my face for a moment, even as that chilled feeling spread across my torso, and into my right arm. 

"What's that?" Christine hissed, tearing her eyes away from the rescue of young Will Turner.

Mute, I tipped the object into my best friend's open hand. "Ouch! It's really cold!" she whispered, turning it over. "What is it?"

Touching her arm, she looked up at me, then at the screen, where I pointed. Her eyes shone wide and incredulous, as she whispered, "Unreal."

Even as Elizabeth Swann removed a gold 'pirate's mark' from Will's neck, the identical object lay in my best friend's cupped hand.

Staring, unseeing at the screen, I hadn't even realized how cold I'd gotten. My teeth were chattering, and I found myself drawing my knees up to my chin, trying to draw some warmth into them, wishing away my goose-bumps. "Heather," Christine whispered, her voice sounding oddly small and far-away sounding. "I'm c-cold."

On the screen, Elizabeth, spotting the blackest ship to sail the seven seas gasped and closed her eyes. I let out a gasp of pain, squeezing my eyes shut, feeling as though I'd just plunged into a frozen lake. My muscles suddenly seemed stiff, frozen, and quite unresponsive. Like the cold and all-too-welcoming fingers of death, I felt myself being enveloped, being drug down, slipping away from reality. I flailed my arms wildly - and to my surprise, they met resistance. Resistance from....._water_?!

My eyes snapped open as I took great, gasping breaths. It was dark - and I was immersed in water. I kicked out desperately, and my foot made contact with the, admittedly shifting, but still sturdy, sand. Desperately getting my footing, I looked around wildly. Gone were the teenyboppers, the weird guys, the making out couple. Gone was the massive screen, the Christmas-light-lit walkways, the exit signs, the comfy seats. Gone were the walls, the ceiling, the entire theatre.

In their place: miles of endless dark water to my left; sand, trees and, in the distance, the lights of a town, to my right. An endless expanse of dark, velvet sky, stars, and an almost-full moon stretched above me. And a short distance away, kneeling on the beach and coughing up seawater, Christine.

Heart beating wildly, I forced myself through the water to the shore - and Christine - all the while desperately hoping that I was - what? Dreaming? Imagining things? Hallucinating?

The relentless waves pushed me forward, then tantalizingly pulled me back, until at long last, a final white-cap pushed me onto the sand. I let myself collapse there, feeling the sand work its way into my hair, cling to my skin, grittily soak its way into my clothes. Christine was only feet away now, on her hands and knees, head down as her chest rose and fell in deep, rapid breaths. The night was soft, dark and silent save for the lapping of the waves that still washed over my legs, and the chirping of insects in the trees. I closed my eyes, and let the night and water - which felt considerably warmer than it had a first - ebb the stiffness from my body.

"Heather," Christine said weekly.

I didn't move. If I didn' move, if I didn't open my eyes, if I didn't acknowledge that any of this was_ real, _then maybe it wouldn't be. Maybe it'd all be some disturbing dream.

"Heather," she persisted. "Dang it, Heather! Please wake up!"

The desperation and knifing panic in her voice was what finally prompted me to open my eyes and slowly turn my head to look at her. 

Christine had lifted her face, her arms tensed and clutching at fistfuls of sand. "Heather," her eyes pleaded. "Where are we?"

I swallowed, and pushed myself off the sand. My white tank-top had become more grey from the pale sand that had worked into it, but as I sat there, legs still half-out of the water, I couldn't care, and I couldn't answer her question. Instead, panic, that creature that had never in my living memory truly attacked me, was clawing its way up my throat. I wanted to scream - but as I did _not_ know where we were, or who a scream might bring running, I choked it down. I wanted to cry - but I was the older one, the stable one, the rock. I had to be the foundation, the support, and so I didn't cry, either. "I -" I started, cleared my throat, then began again. "I don't know."

Christine let out a shaky breath, her fists clenching the sand so hard, her knuckles were turning white. "Heather...what _ is_ this?"

I looked back up, to see Christine holding her hand out, the gold medallion glinting in her grip.

Reaching forward, I took it from her shaking hands, noticing that this time, no coldness spread across me. My fingers rubbed the sand of it's glinting surface, the eyes of the grinning skull gleaming at me. My hands, too, were shaking, I realized, as I stared at it. "It has to be a fake." It _had_ to be. There was no way I held Elizabeth's copy in my hand, and yet all the other copies were safely locked in their trunk, so-

Realizing what I was thinking, I shook myself. _Hello_?! What was I _thinking_?! Of _course_ it was a fake! _Pirates of the Caribbean_ is a _movie_! _Not_ reality! I tried to laugh at my foolishness, but the simple fact was that we _were_ on a strange beach somewhere, and by the strong scent of fish and salt, beside the ocean, with no idea of how we'd gotten there.

"But - it's a fake _what_?" Christine asked, her eyes nervous.

Christine didn't know what the medallion meant. She _didn't know what it _meant. I looked past her to the distant, faint lights of the town, and something in my gut, I don't know what, just _ something_, told me that something had gone terribly wrong. We were not supposed to be here, and it had something to do with this accursed medallion. And if I had anything to say about it, Christine was not _going _to know what the medallion meant. I would spare her that. 

"It's - it's just a pirate's mark," I spilled the lie out easily. "That's all."

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment, then Christine repeated her first question. "Where are we?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. Maybe if we head over to that town, we can find out."

Christine turned to look over her shoulder at the lights. "Okay," she said simply, and we helped each other up. She kicked off her sandals to walk barefoot, but my flip-flops had long been lost in the waves. I rolled the edge of my jeans up - not that they'd get any less wet or muddy, but it gave me a sense of some normalcy - and we set off at a slow walk. 

As we neared the end of the small peninsula we were on, around which the town appeared to be, a spit of rock far out in the water became more and more visible, until finally we rounded the rocks and trees that formed the corner, and there stood an achingly familiar town on the right, and the full, revealed spit of tall rocks far ahead and to the right. And near the end of these rocks, in a natural archway, hung the drying bodies of three hanging skeletons.

Christine let out a shriek, pointing wordlessly, wide-eyed at the bodies, and I felt the panic crawling its menacing way back up.

"What kind of place _is_ this?!" Christine turned away from the sight of the distant bodies, her face pale.

My teeth had begun chattering again.

"Port Royal."

Well....what you think? Am I insane enough? Is it a spiffy enough b-day pressie for my bestest best pal, Christine?

Read. Review. You know the drill. : D


	2. Shipwrecked Damsels in Distress

Muchas thanks to my reviewers! You make me feel all specaillys and stuff! *sniff* Am so happy!

**_Aiyh_****_-Sa: _**Thankies! I hope she likes it…and don't worry, I shall continue!

**_Quof_****_: _**Thanks! Eek, no, no fem-slash going on here! (No _other_ slash, for that matter…)

**_Monitor_: Thank-yew! Hee hee….that clothes thing, (I hope) shall be somewhat amusing in this chapter!**

**_Andi_****_ Horton: _**Thanks-you. Honestly, I'm not trying to steal your idea (OK, so I am…J) but it was more a matter of reading your story, then having my muse bite me in the ankle and say "Remember that it's Christine's b-day next week?" Yours is still massively amazing!

**_Iris42_: Thanks! And here chapter two is!**

Otherwise….same disclaimer holds true, and, for that matter, the fact that I still own nothing and still have no money holds true as well.

This chapter, unlike the previous one, is supposed to be funny. Guess we'll see how that works out, shall we?

            "Shh!" I hissed, peeking around the corner of the stone wall. 

            Behind me, being just as quiet as I was, so really, the hushing had been unnecessary, Christine was pressed against the wall, eyebrows furrowed as she tried to look around me at the town. "You still haven't told me where Port Royal _is_, and why the _heck you know _what_ it is." She reprimanded, sounding mildly ticked off._

            After making sure that the street we were nearly on was empty, I turned away to face my best friend. Her long, blonde hair had fallen out of the clip she'd had it tied back in, and hung, knotted and windblown, around her face. She was sandy, still-half damp, and I realized that I too, must look about the same. This was _definitely going to be difficult to explain. "Well…" I said slowly, trying to think of a simple, neat, and effective lie to tell her. "I saw it on a postcard. And it was of that particular rocks and ocean scene."_

            One of her eyebrows arched. "Oh yeah?" 

            "Er…yeah." Maybe this wasn't going to work as well as I had planned. 

            Christine crossed her arms across her chest, and leaned back heavily against the wall. "Then can we _please go find a payphone or something, so that I can call my parents and get this whole stupid thing worked out? Not that I don't want to explore a beach with you or anything….but I'd like to figure out what's going on."_

            I glanced back around the stone wall at the town. "Um…well, we can try." My only thought was that this had _better just be some big joke. Okay, so a really elaborate how-the-_heck-_did-you-manage-to-transport-us-to-the-Equatorial-regions kind of joke, but a joke nonetheless. After all, the medallion had to be a replica, then the city of Port Royal and the hanging skeletons had to be a replica too, right? Maybe – maybe this was the movie set! Yeah, that made sense! The set where they'd recorded the movie! After all, it couldn't __possibly be the __real Port Royal, as that town had been all but destroyed (okay, so not destroyed, but well smucked) by cannons, then hey! It couldn't be this town!_

            Feeling much better about the whole thing, and quite convinced that yes, we _would _be able to find a payphone, I stepped around the stone wall, onto the hard dirt-packed road.

            Christine followed, her eyes wide as we walked into the town in the earliest traces of sunlight. "Wow, now _this_ is a cool town," she proclaimed, still talking in low tones. "Some tourist trap, eh? Man, this is _cool_."

            My eyes were reserved less for the quaint, picturesque-ness of the town, and more on the rats crawling in the gutters, the very real dirt on the door steps, the _realness of the town. My assured feeling that this was all a recreation, a set, was fading. Something was just…wrong._

            I was also trying to keep a very sharp lookout for other people. Half of me wanted desperately to see people _really dressed in old-fashioned, pirate times clothing, but the more reasonable half, the half I __should have been listening to all along, told me that I should really be hoping for some normal person in blue jeans. But some normal person in blue jeans, despite all my wishes, was _not_ what I was destined to see that now brightly dawning morning. _

            A scandalized gasp sent us both spinning where we stood, to see a young woman, dressed in a plain and simple dress and pinafore standing behind us. Her hair had been swept up under a proper cap, a basket full of freshly picked vegetables hung from her arm, and both her hands had flown up to cover her mouth. Above her hands, sensible brown eyes stared at us, wide and shocked. She made no move, whether to run away or approach us, just staring, so I cleared my throat, and hoping desperately that she was just acting, threw caution to the winds.

            "Er…hello?"

            She gasped, sounding almost like a little shriek, and I'm pretty sure had been hoping that _we were ghosts or figments of her imagination, or hallucinations or something. Frankly, I had been hoping the exact same thing. _

            "Um, miss?" Christine took a small, half-step forward, holding her hands out, trying to look non-threatening. "We're not going to _hurt_ you." Christine looked very bewildered. Had she known what I was pretty sure I knew, I think she would have been beyond bewildered. Like me, she would have reached the point of my-brain-is-now-screwing-me-up-beyond-recognition.

            Lowering her hands just a little bit, the girl (actually, she was probably the same age as me, but somehow she seemed like a 'girl' to me) managed to squeak out, "Why are you wearing your _… underthings on the _street_?!"_

            I recall staring. Yes, I definently recall great amounts of staring at each other as Christine and I let her words soak into our slightly sea-water addled brains, then realize precisely what she was referring to. For pete's sake, Christine wore a t-shirt and capris, I tank-top and jeans! I am slightly proud to announce that I realized first, but I think that was only because I had some warning, and I had the slightest inkling of what was going on anyway. So before Christine could manage to splutter out the indignant response that I knew was waiting on the tip of her tongue, I took two desperate steps forward, hoping that I was right, and hoping within an inch of my life that I'd be able to pull this off.

            "We were shipwrecked," I whispered, and I watched the girl's eyes widen further and Christine give me an incredulous look. "A storm swept down on our ship, and we barely managed to escape into a lifeboat with….with…the first mate." Yes, the first mate sounded sensible and secure. "But the storm….a wave crashed down on us, and destroyed the boat and the mate was swept away from us, and…and we survived only by holding onto pieces of the boat. Our dresses were weighing us down – we had to take them off or…or _drown_." I tried to force the appropriate I-just-narrowly-escaped-death-and-now-I-may-faint expression onto my face. "We washed up onto the beach, and thought that maybe someone…here…could help us…" It took a little effort, but I was pretty sure I looked now like I was going to cry.

            As Christine stared at me like I'd just grown an extra head, the girl's eyes grew, for a moment, wider, then she nodded with firm efficiency. "You poor _dears," she said, moving forward to take one of our elbows each. "You must come with me. My master is the Governor, and he must know of this." _

            She began marching us down the street, and Christine asked, obviously not trusting my judgement of where we were, "And what place is it that we have…" she shot me a weird look over the girl's head, "_washed up_ into?"

            "Port Royal, o' course," the girl responded, sounding surprised that we hadn't known that. "How far a-sea were you washed?"

            "Far." I said firmly, tossing a told-you-so look over her head at Christine.

            "Oh, definitely," Christine agreed, shooting me a we-have-_got-to-talk look. _

            We were silent for the next few minutes as our guide hastened us up the hill towards the large white mansion that overlooked the town. I had a feeling that she was walking so fast because she wanted to get us (scandalous ol' us) off the streets when all we were wearing was our 'underthings'. 

            Reaching the house, she led us in through a back door, hustling us inside and closing the door quickly behind us. The cook, a wide-gerthed, motherly looking type, looked up, and gasped, jumping back and nearly spilling the pot she'd been stirring a moment before. "Sarah Parker!" she gasped, in an outraged, scandalized voice. "What ye be doing, bringing strange undressed girls into ma kitchen!"

            "They were shipwrecked, mama," the girl protested, sounding slightly defiant. "We need to let the Governor know, and besides, the poor dears would catch their death of cold out there."

            Mama Parker, as we assumed she was, growled, but stumped around to the cabinet in the corner, and pulled out a couple wool blankets. She marched over to us, and though I'm afraid to admit we shrunk back a bit, more than a little intimidated, she swung the blankets around our shoulders, and pushed us towards the bench beside the fire. "Sit yerselves down and get warm, now." She ordered, and swept back to the fire, returning moments later with two cups of…tea? "There, now drink up, warm yer insides. I'll go see 'bout the Gov'ner."

            She swept out of the room in a speed that belied her size, and left Christine and I staring after her, steaming cups of tea in our hands, blankets on our shoulders.

            "Aww, she's like that," Sarah said, smiling at us with a shy smile now that our 'underthings' were covered by blankets. "The Governor will get this whole thing sorted out, and I'm sure you can be on your way soon enough. You'll be wanted to head home, o' course?"

            "Right, of course." Christine perked back up, moving from staring into her cup to giving Sarah a very searching look. "Look, all we want to do is get home, and…"

            "Oh, your poor grandfather!" I interrupted, making both sets of eyes turn to stare at me. It had just occurred to me that this, despite everything that I had been hoping and deluding myself with, was _not_ fake. And as such, then I needed to play this role of shipwrecked damsel in distress to the hilt, or we'd be stuck sitting in a back room somewhere – or worse, on a boat headed 'home' - and we'd miss all the action and adventure. And _that_ wouldn't do, would it?

            "My _grandfather?!" Christine repeated. She knew that I knew as well as she did that, not only was her grandfather dead, but he certainly had _nothing_ to do with this situation._

            "Oh, the poor man! I only hope he escaped the storm too! Whatever shall they do without him if he didn't?!"

            Both Christine and Sarah were staring at me as if I had lost my mind, but really, I was fairly sure that I was in full control of my capacities. "Perhaps…perhaps you would be able to send a message, to…." I racked my brain to think of the name of a southern island city far away from Port Royal. "To…St. George, to let them know that their….their Governor may have been lost at sea?"

            "Your grandfather is the Governor of St. George?" Sarah asked, slightly incredulous. 

            "Umm…" Christine glanced at me, eyebrows raised, and I tried to nod without moving my head. (Oddly enough, that doesn't work. Try it.) Seeing (I think she saw, anyway) that I trying to get her to agree, she forced a bright smile onto her face, and turned back to Sarah. "Yes, he…was." 

            "Well, oh my." Sarah suddenly seemed flustered, like she was a guest at a party, only to discover that she was at the wrong one. "Um…I shall be back in a moment." Leaping to her feet, she dashed from the kitchen, leaving us rather bewildered and quite alone.

            Christine wasted no time in turning back to me, eyebrows high. "My grandfather is the _Governor of _St. George_?"_

_            I swallowed. "Well…I had to create some kind of impression that we weren't just __peasants, or something," I defended myself. "I mean, really, you want them to say we can apprentice with the maids, or something?"_

            "No…" she said slowly, eyes narrowed as she looked at me. "Look, you know what's going on, don't you?"

            I swallowed. "Somewhat…"

            "Then you mind _telling me?!"_

            "Um…no. I can't."

            "You _can't?!" Christine's eyes widened as she leaned back, a slightly betrayed expression on her face. _

            "I'm sorry," I answered honestly. "But you have to believe me, I'm not sure, and…well, you just have to trust that I know what I'm doing, okay?" 

            The look on her face hurt. It was like I'd slapped her in the face, and she slumped back against the stone fireplace, arms crossed. "Thanks," she said sarcastically. "Thanks for trusting me to make the right choice, _Heather_."

            I groaned, and leaned back against the stones too. "Look, Christine, it's not like that. It's just that…I don't know how long we're here for, I don't know if we can get home yet, or if we can make anyone understand. I just…I just don't know. And I don't want…I dunno. I don't want anyone to get hurt. Okay?"

            She sighed, and her scowl faded a little. "Will you tell me someday?"

            "Maybe really soon," I said trying to make her feel better. "Maybe tomorrow, maybe even later today, or something. I just…I'm not really sure myself, so I have to make sure I'm right, first, and then I can tell you everything."

            Christine frowned, but nodded. "Okay. I take your lead, let you figure out what's going on. Then you _promise_ to tell me, right?"

            "Right. But look, I-"

            I never got to finish what I was saying, because the door swung back open, and in marched Mama Parker, followed by a white-wigged, paunchy man and a cowering Sarah.

            The man headed towards us, a genial, welcoming smile on his face, holding his hands out. "Ladies," he said, beaming. "Welcome to Port Royal. I am Governor Swann."

Mwa ha! I am in a movie! 

Yeah. Oh well, again, you know the drill. Read. Review. Make me happy. J


	3. Oh my! Is that Orlando Bloom?

*Happy Dance*

I am back, and as insane as ever (of course). Well, was chapter two any more interesting? I hope so! 

And I still don't own anything. Phooee. Disney….you already have my beloved ducks…can't I _please_ have my pirates?

And to my faithful reviewers (Aww…I love you guys!)

**_GoldenHorizon_**: *blushes* Thankies! And here comes the 'more soon'!

**_Andi Horton_**: Girl, I love you. Your work is amazing (hilarious, too boot!) and you review! What a combination! Keep up the story, Andi!

And to all my readers…thankies, and here's chapter three!

            "Hold your breath, try not to let them get the stupid thing too – augh!" 

            I let out a cry of disgust and admittedly, pain, as Sarah tightened the corset with a particularily vindictive yank of the strings. "Are you _trying_ to make it so I can't breathe?" I asked under my breath, just a little too quiet for her to hear. 

            I stood in the centre of a small, back bedroom, while Sarah and another maid (it had dawned on me, by this point, that that was what Sarah was) attempted to get me into one of Elizabeth Swann's old dresses. Governor Swann had, upon discovering that Christine's grandfather was a Governor as well (brilliant piece of story-telling there, if I do say so myself) had insisted that we had to be treated like ladies. It made me laugh, really. So while a seamstress was supposed to be coming by that afternoon after "the luncheon for Commodore Norrington" (to quote the Governor) we were to be fitted into some of Elizabeth's old things for the meantime.

            That wouldn't be such a problem, were it not for the fact that Elizabeth is _considerably_ smaller than I am, and any dress designed for _her_ waist in a corset would never properly accommodate mine. 

            And so that was why, as I attempted to hold my breath in so I'd be able to breath later (wouldn't do to have more than one girl faint, would it?), Sarah was doing her best to squeeze all that breath out of me so I'd have a gracefully thin waist and fit into the blue dress lying on the bed. 

            "I think," Sarah said with a grunt, "that that's as tight as we're going to get it."

            "Thank goodness," I whispered to myself, and stood still as they tied the offending garment's strings. 

            As Sarah moved to retrieve the dress off the bed, the door opened a crack, and a auburn-curled head poked in. "Everything all right?" Elizabeth asked brightly, though I noticed her hand strayed to her corseted waist, and her smile flickered a moment. Couldn't say I blamed her.

            "Oh, yes," Sarah said promptly, keeping her eyes down. "Thank you, miss Swann."

            I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Elizabeth smiled, and turned to go. It was weird, thinking of Elizabeth as a real person, and not just some character out of a movie. 

She had left the door open a crack, however, and a moment later, a mischievous, blonde head poked in, grinning. "Hey…looks like you lost weight!" she smirked, leaving me to send a poison glare her way. 

"Shh!" I hissed, stepping as quickly as I could (you never realize how much you need oxygen until the supply becomes endangered) to the door. "Don't talk like that! It's…not normal here."

"I've noticed." Christine crossed her arms. "I've noticed that, not only does everybody talk weird, but everything is just a _tad_ old-fashioned. I don't think this is all an act, Heather. I seriously think that we've been sent…I dunno, back in time or something. And _you_ know what's going on."

I winced. Okay, so it was stupid to hope that maybe she wouldn't figure things out, but I could hope, couldn't I?

"Okay, look. Yes, we are back in time. Back to the 18th century somewhere, though I don't know when exactly, for sure. Anyways, yes, we're stuck here until further notice, I have _no_ idea how we got here, and yes, I _do_ know what's going to happen." When she opened her mouth to speak, I added, "and _no_, I will _not_ tell you what's going to happen."

"Why _not_?!" she demanded, arms crossed over her corseted chest. It probably would look a little odd, I realized, should anyone look up the stairs and see us, both dressed only in shifts and corsets.

"I'll be right back," I said quickly, turning back to Sarah. Stepping out of the room, I closed the door quietly behind me. "Let's get into one of these rooms, okay? Then no one will see us standing around in our underwear."

"This _underwear_ is more than most people wear as _clothes_," Christine grumbled, but followed me into the sitting room at the end of the corridor. "Okay, look. You know what's going on. I _don't_. You _always_ share what's going on with me, Heather! If you don't tell me, I'll screw something up royally, or something."

I took a deep breath, prayed for patience, and tried very, _very _hard to explain. "Okay, look. I know what's going to happen, I know where we are, etc. _However_, I do _not_ know the _extent_ to which we are in this story."

Christine's eyes narrowed. "I don't get it."

"Okay, look. We are in a story. Got that? Okay, now, this story has a set timeline, right? It has a sequence of events that are supposed to happen, and their supposed to happen in a certain way. That makes sense, right? So what happened if you had a very specific set of things to happen, and suddenly, they threw a couple extra people in there? Would the story change? Would it stay the same, but have some minor reroutes? Would little things be modified, but otherwise be the same? Would nothing happen, and these two extra people were unable to…I dunno, even change the dialogue or anything? Or would everything become an almighty mess, and everything go down the drains?!" I threw up my hands in frustration. "I _don't know_! For all I know, just us _being_ here has screwed up the story line so much that Jack won't show up, or Barbossa won't – "

I cut myself off, hands flying to my mouth. I had very nearly told her about the curse, and _that _wouldn't do at all, especially since that medallion, the one whose appearance had yet to be explained, was still in my possession. I'd strung a spare piece of string into the medallion, and I wore it now around my neck, having copied Elizabeth's trick. My string was, of course, far more noticeable than a gold chain, so I was glad that the dress they'd picked out from Elizabeth's old things had a collar that I could hide the necklace in. 

Christine stared at me. "Oh."

I sighed, and leaned against the wall. "Look, I'm sorry. Y'know me, I'm paranoid."

She blinked. "Can't argue with that." Then she half-smiled, almost sheepishly. "Look, okay, I get it. You don't tell me, I quite asking. _Que serai, serai. _What will be, will be. Got it."

"Really?" Well, that went remarkably well. Daresay, much better than I thought it would. "Well, I guess we'd better….go get dressed then, eh?"

Christine laughed. "What, no more parading about in our 'underthings'?" She laughed, and pushed open the door. "Honestly, I – oops!"

I was nearly bowled over at this point as Christine jumped back, having just spotted the Governor and a certain young man below in the foyer. "Oh…my goodness." She whispered. "Is that…that isn't…._Orlando Bloom_?!"

Now this was _exactly_ why I didn't tell Christine which movie we were in. I mean, yes, she would figure it out eventually, but the idea of her gushing over Will was not conducive to plans of letting the story follow it's proper path. However…..he _is_ Orlando Bloom….okay, so Will Turner is not Orlando Bloom. Will Turner is _played_ Orlando Bloom, and as we were suddenly stuck in this whacked-out reality, then Will Turner is simply an incredibly sexy man who bears a strong resemblance to some guy that will be born in the future and will be named Orlando Bloom. Wonder if Orlando is his descendent.

That in mind…

"Shh!"

"Quit shoving!"

"He'll _hear _us!"

That, my friends, is the sound of two teenaged girls (one legally an adult though –why do they overlap those things?) standing, in their 'underthings', on the balcony above the foyer of a rich man's house, ogling over the _very_ attractive blacksmith below.

The door to our immediate right opened, and we both froze, to hear the slight giggle of Elizabeth. "Girls….you aren't ready yet?"

Turning very, _very_ slowly, we sheepishly looked at Elizabeth, dressed up very nicely, and trying to hide a grin. "Father told me that you would be coming in the carriage after us, perhaps…you ought to get dressed? It might be difficult to attend the ceremony when you are still undressed."

"Right," I agreed firmly, already grabbing Christine's arm and pulling her back towards the spare room with me. "Oh, Will's arrived."

I felt like throttling that suddenly bright happy, cheery look that spread across Elizabeth's face at the mention of Will. Come on…she's not the only one in the world who thinks he's gorgeous! As she swept off down the stairs, I finally succeeded in pulling Christine away from the railing and into the spare room, where Sarah and the other maid were waiting rather impatiently with dresses.

_Alright,_ I growled to myself as Sarah advanced with a dress that had more material in it than all the dresses I had ever owned in my life combined. _This is almost over_. _Get the_ _stupid dress on, get to the stupid ceremony._

I couldn't help but grin, and Christine must have really thought me insane. 

Captain Jack Sparrow, here I come.

YAY! Chapter three done!! *feels all smart and speciallies* 

Review! (Hey, I've seen PotC stories out there with the writer's getting over 300 reviews….how come _I_'m not getting over 300 reviews?! *pouts* C'mon, guys! You can do better than this!)

  
  



	4. He called me luv!

Y'know, I heard a rumor about this bug going around. It gets to your muse, and then your muse bites your ankle, and it makes you do this strange thing called….updating? I think that's what it's called. It's where your muse keeps you from starting new stuff, even if you want to, and it makes you work on old stuff instead, or at least older than yesterday stuff. I dunno, have you heard of it?

And yes, for those of you who _don't_ know…I do _not own Pirates of the Caribbean. Shame, that._

Once again, I am in debt to my faithful reviewers, and here I thank you:

**_Huntress16_: Thankies! And here we have it – I am updating! Yay!**

**_Matchmakergtpie_****_: _**Hey! It's great? Aww…..thanks…..

**_Quicksilvermad_**: Thank-yew! You think it's hilarious?! *blushes furiously* Fanks….

**_Andi_****_ Horton_**: My faithful reviewer! Yes…Orlando obsession is good, though the thing is that at this point, Christine doesn't even know they're an item, so even that _itselfshould be interesting! Thank you so much!_

**_Aiyh_****_-Sa:_** Don't worry, Jack is on his way! Thanks!

Aww….you guys make me feel so special! 

Enjoy, and read on!

            I thought that the ceremony for the soon-to-be Commodore Norrington looked mildly boring when I was watching the movie.

            I was wrong.

            It was completely, totally, mind-_numbingly boring._

            I stifled a yawn, covered up (I hope) gracefully with my fan, which I had discovered that really was needed in the Caribbean. It's a lot warmer down there than I would have thought. Funny thing that, equators. 

            As I stood there, fanning myself, Christine on my left and Elizabeth a little ahead and to the right, I tried standing on my tiptoes to see if I could properly see the harbor. I could see a little of it, but it was mostly obscured by soldiers in their stupid red coats. I couldn't even tell if Jack and his slowly sinking ship had arrived yet. 

            Turning back to where the "Commodore" was walking under a row of raised guns, I sighed, which turned out to be not such a good idea, as that stressed the already precarious air situation. I don't know how these women handled this, day in and day out, really. It's ridiculous! However, once I'd recovered from the spinning feeling that tight corsets gives me, I reached a hand upwards to my hair, which had been done up in some overly curly updo that I _tried to tell them would never stay up. Bloody hair – too fine to stay up; too straight to keep a curl; and too curly to stay straight. _That _was why my hair was currently sliding it's casual way out of the bun, making me look particularily like I had been running, working, or perhaps some other slightly more enjoyable preoccupation that would have gotten me into __considerable trouble with…well….everyone I can think of at the moment._

            So I sighed again (but a little one this time – I learned my lesson) and let my hand stray back down to my side. Elizabeth seemed to be watching the ceremony closely, but I had noticed what many others had seemed not to – her eyes were glazed, and she was swaying slightly. Beside me, Christine seemed to have also noticed, and was watching Elizabeth with a rather concerned expression. "Is she gonna be alright?" she asked me in a whisper, hiding her mouth behind the _way too brightly colored fan that Miss Swann had lent her. _

            I tried not to betray a thing in my face. "Sure."

            "Oh, good." I don't know if she accepted my lame little attempt to reassure her or not, but she seemed to be satisfied enough to not bring it back up. Instead, she clapped heartily along with everyone else when the ceremony _finally _ended, and we started to wander around the courtyard with a small gaggle of other ladies while the crowd dispersed. 

            I spotted Elizabeth and the commodore out of the corner of my eye, but they and their proposing was less important than the possibility that, as I realized that he _had to be here by now, that I might be able to spot Jack. And so I headed for the wall, leaning against the stones and searching the harbor below. _

            And there he was. Far below, standing on the deck of the _Interceptor_, patiently waiting for two bumbling English officers to figure themselves out, stood Captain Jack Sparrow.

            And if he was on the deck of the ship, right now, then that meant…

            "Elizabeth," I gasped, spinning towards the bell arch, only to hear someone else scream her name.

            "_Elizabeth_!?!"

            Oh yes, Commodore Norrington was screaming his head off over his currently hurtling object-of-his-affections, but the one doing the _real yelling was my best friend, who, as I believe I have mentioned, had no idea what was going on. As I, along with the entire regiment, Governor Swann and several passers-by ran up to the edge, I felt supremely bad for Christine, who had no idea, like the crowd, that Elizabeth would be fine._

            She hit the water with a splash, and as multiple people fought over who would be the one to go get the currently drowning girl, I saw, far below, Jack shuck his coat and accessories and dive in. And that was when I heard the shouts of the surrounding people, gasps, and the horrified yell of Governor Swann.

            And as I turned my head towards the sound of the commotion, I realized that Christine had disappeared from the edge of the balcony, and that everyone was, once again, staring downwards.

            And…herald the splash.

            Aww…._man….._

            She looked remarkably graceful in her descent, and dove in cleanly, but the fact that she did a good job of it did _not_ make me feel any better. Her arms pumped in strong strokes, and she made it easily over to where Elizabeth had fallen in, where Jack himself had also arrived by now. 

            And _that was when it happened. _

            A shock wave rippled out over the water, wind blasted at those of us on the wall, the clouds stormed and raged, and the medallion around me necked burned. I gasped, and yanked it out of my bodice by the string, glad that no one would notice me trying to recover from a sudden burn in an inconvenient place. It looked the same as it always had, but it was so _hot_….was it one of the real medallions, and it was reacting to the call of the other? Or was it just a shadow of the real reaction?

            Shoving the medallion back down the front of my dress, I leaned over to see Elizabeth's dress drifting on the surface of the water as Jack dragged a limp Elizabeth back to shore. Christine was a stroke behind, perhaps ready to take over if he found he couldn't carry her any longer. 

            The crowd began to move, now, running down the sloping pathway to the harbor. Although it occurred to me that I was now moving closer to soon-to-be-firing guns, I had some very specific reasons for running, full-tilt, skirt hiked up, along with the crowd:

1) To get close to Jack Sparrow.

2) To make sure Christine was alright.

3) To get close to Jack Sparrow.

4) To make sure that Elizabeth was alright, even though I knew she _would_ be.

5) …..yeah, well, to get close to Captain Jack Sparrow.

Yes, I'm single-minded and lame. Oh well, _I was going to get close to Captain Jack Sparrow. Go me!_

As we neared the particular dock, I half watched as the guards pulled Jack, Elizabeth and Christine out of the water, and knew that Jack was cutting off Elizabeth's corset. Frankly, I envied her. I had fallen behind quite a bit by this point, and by the time I got close enough to really see those gorgeous kohl-lined eyes, Jack had already grabbed Elizabeth by the throat with his cuffs. 

Hey! Why did _she_ get all the luck?! 

"Let her _go_!" A ticked off female voice yelled, and I groaned, wincing. _Christine…. _

"I'm alright," Elizabeth's lips barely moved, but I could see it clear enough from the angle I stood at at that moment. 

And so, now separated from the centre of action by a rather large crowd of angry soldiers, I could only watch helpless as Jack (_Captain Jack, sorry) called, "You shall all remember this as the day that you _almost_ caught Captain Jack Sparrow!" go for a ride on his very own impromptu twirl-a-whirl, and the rather dangerous hubbub that involved much shooting and missing. I retreated back from the crowds, ducking into an alley, trying to avoid the sporadic gunfire.   _

And that was when, for the very first time in my life, I was glad that I couldn't run quickly. Because Jack leapt down onto the street, and started running. And because I was far behind everyone else, and had been separated from the soldiers by the curious crowd, and because I was now in that alley, I was in the avenue of travel that was safest. And because I was there, I was in the way. 

I tried to jump back and out of Jack's way, but I tripped over the edge of my rather over-sized dress, and with an embarrassed yelp, I tumbled over into the dusty street, practically at Jack's feet. I don't think my face has _ever_ been that red before.

And, to my immortal and eternal shock, Jack stopped, and bent over. "Alright there, luv?" 

My throat locked up. I tried to breathe – he's talking to me he's talking to mehe'stalkingto_me – but I found it surprisingly difficult. Gasping, I tried nodding. _

A dirty hand reached down, firmly gripped my arm, and pulled me to my feet. I0 found myself staring into a pair of dark-rimmed, piercing eyes, and tried very, _very_ hard to smile. "Alright?" he repeated.

"Uh-huh." I whispered, and he nodded, a foppish half-bow accompanying it before he moved to sprint again. My brain suddenly went back into gear when his hand left my arm, and I called, "Wait! Try the smithy!"

He turned, almost lazily, though personally _I_ would have been running like the devil himself was on my tail. "Smithy?" he repeated, one eyebrow raised.

I swallowed, glancing over my shoulder to make sure the soldiers hadn't found this alley yet. They seemed to be sprinting along the main road instead. "A smithy could remove your chains, right? Pretty hard to swim with those on."

He smirked, and bowed again. "Brilliant bit o' thinkin', luv. I am forever in your debt."

And with that, he began running again, and this time, he was _actually running._

I stood there a few more moments, staring after his retreating form, until long after he was gone. I was still standing there when I heard Christine's voice call my name. "Heather! _Heather! Are you alright?!"_

I blinked, and shook myself. "Yep, sure." I said, maybe a little _too_ cheerily, because Christine gave me that you-just-grew-an-extra-head look again.

"The soldiers are after that pirate," she said, beginning the long walk up the hill to the Governor's house. "They'll catch him, don't worry. The way he treated Elizabeth!" she growled. It was weird, the way she defended a girl she barely knew, but Christine's like that with her friends. I think Elizabeth should be flattered. "I figured we'd head back up the hill. I dunno where that carriage driver went, or I'd be wanting a ride."

"It was really good of you to dive in to save Elizabeth," I said automatically. "Not very _bright, what with those rocks, but really good."_

She stuck her tongue out at me, and I laughed. Everything seemed almost normal again.

But of course, everything was not exactly normal. Jack was here, the pirates had been called, and I still had no idea what was going to happen in regards to us. 

But he called me _luv……._

I think I'm in love.

Read! Review! Savvy?


	5. So Very Alone

  


I'm _back_.....!?

  


Well, ladies (and perhaps the occasional gentleman) I have returned to writing. I am now at school (yay!) and I have my computer back! Took a while to get the internet onto it, that's why this chapter took longer, but it is written, and here it is!

  


Ditto on previous disclaimers. If you honestly think that I a) own Pirates of the Caribbean or b) am making any money off of this : I suggest that you seek professional help. 

  


Go read Lyssa2's _amazing_ fanfiction, Pirates of the Caribbean : The Curse With a Twist found at since she was sooo nice to direct people from there to here! 

  


And, again, to my reviewers, I love you guys.

  


_Brem Nakada: _Cheers! Thanks so much for your lovely review....I am incredibly flattered that you are jealous. Thankies.

  


_Lyssa2_: Ooh....one of the most amazingly funny authors ever thinks I write well?! *gasp* Never fear - updating is guaranteed with reviews like that!

  


_Aiyh-Sa_: Thanks again, for everything. And I got Jack right?! *happiness* :)

  


_highonyou_: Thanks....I blush. Jack's in jail right now, but let's see how long that lasts! 

  


_JenJen_: I've even managed to capture Christine and I right?! Whoo hoo! And Jack and Orlando together.....that may be dangerous.

  


_Christé: _*ducks frying pan* Ack! I swear I'll work on some original fiction....eventually! But in the meantime, just _enjoy_ your b-day pressie, alright?! *huggles* glad you like it, though.

  


_jehsahka: _Thanks, here it comes!

  
  
  
  
  


____ The afternoon was...different. After making our slow way up the hill, we arrived back at the 'mansion'. Not surprisingly, the "luncheon for Commodore Norrington" (still to quote the Governor) had been cancelled, so we sat in the drawing room, Christine and Elizabeth wrapped in blankets, and eating cucumber sandwiches and tea. 

  


It's surprising how odd things can suddenly seem commonplace, or at least get-used-to-able, like tea and cucumber sandwiches, as disgusting as I had once thought they were. Okay, either that, or I was really hungry. 

  


We were sitting there in the sitting room when an urgent messenger arrived to speak with the Governor, and all three of us jumped up from our seats as Elizabeth's father went to speak with the man. We were rather unsuccessful in our attempts to hear what was being said, though we got the general drift, and, in the end, it wasn't really needed anyway - the moment the messenger left, Governor Swann practically danced into the sitting room. 

  


"They caught him!" he trilled, almost singing. "They caught that abominable pirate!"

  


Both Elizabeth and Christine clapped eagerly, happy at this little tidbit of news. 

  


Me?

  


I excused myself for a moment, darted into the "powder room" as Elizabeth had so delicately put it, and nearly had a breakdown. I mean, c'mon, I _knew_ that Jack was going to be captured - I mean, really, this _was_ my favorite movie - but poor _Jack_! I mean, really, the poor man, what did he ever do to deserve prison? 

  


(I mean, besides pillaging, plundering, looting, razing, murdering, kidnaping, exhortation, filching, sacking, ravaging, random destruction, and probably a few other things not maintainable in polite company. Other than that, _nothing_!)

  


So after I wiped the angry snarl off my face and managed to look somewhat more like I wasn't going to kill anyone, I took a deep breath, and headed back to the drawing room.

  


By now, the seamstress that Governor Swann had ordered to come had arrived, almost as though the arrival of a pirate and the almost drowning of his only child would not change the set sequence of events he had decided on. I was informed that she and Christine were already in the spare bedroom, getting measurements. I suppressed a groan, and went to join them.

  


I hate getting measured. At least when there is no definite on things like measurements, I can pretend that they don't matter to me, and that it is quite possible that my hips/chest/stomach/whatever-it-is-that-I'm-hating-that-day is smaller than I know that it really is. And that was why, for the first time (with the possible exception that it made me run slower), I was actually grateful for that stupid corset. Oh yeah, I can handle tiny waists! 

  


After we were sufficiently measured and humiliated by the measuring, we were led back into the drawing room, where Elizabeth, Christine, I and the dressmaker conferred on what kinds of dresses we were to have made, while the Governor kept trying to throw his own two cents in. (I swear, that man has no fashion sense)

  


After finally deciding that we were getting some kind of "flowery thing" (I _do_ enjoy quoting father Swann, don't I?) and something more practical, besides a plain back dress (the Guv apparently thinks we'll need to go into proper mourning over Christine's non-existent grandfather) we headed upstairs. The color was fading from the evening sky as we were led back into the spare bedrooms. A maid was scurrying around, sliding bed-warmers in between the sheets, and I couldn't help but grin. If they only _knew_ how useful those things were!

  


The maids helped us with the dresses and corsets, and left us in dressing gown and shifts. Christine crawled into bed, wrapping blankets around her to ward off the swiftly cooling evening, her blue eyes peering at me over her blankets. "Aren't you going to bed?" she asked, glancing over at the other bed, that was softly calling to my tired body.

  


"In a minute," I assured her, and smiled. "Be right back."

  


I darted out of the room, wrapping the dressing gown around myself tightly. Sarah was just leaving Elizabeth's room, so I knew that Elizabeth was now lying in bed, thinking about Will. Yeah, you keep thinking that, we'll see if someone doesn't tip you off your high horse. I almost started laughing. Oh, come _on_, Heather! You know how things work out.....they're destined to be together! However, I might add, Jack ends up with noone.....except of course, the Pearl, but then he's wide open, right......

  


Had I been home at that moment, if I had, say, been on MSN with Christine, that would have been the cue for maniacal laughter. Steal the hot guy and all that. I couldn't help the little grin that crept onto my face as I paused before the window, watching the city below. In the darkness, the sputtering gas lamps were the only light, until, from behind a cloud, emerged the full moon. I shivered, and found my eyes searching for the jail. They found a tall, cold looking stone building, and I frowned. That had to be it. Poor Jack, sitting all alone in that dirty prison, and soon the _Black Pearl_ would arrive, and - 

  


That particular train of thought was cut off by the echoing crash of a discharged cannon. 

  


"Oh...._no_...." I whispered, spinning to look at the harbor. I recognized that black ship in the water, my breath caught in my throat, as I watched it fire off the cannons at an unnatural rate. Pirates were swarming onto the docks, streaming into the town. For a very long moment, I simply stared down at the ensuing scene, until I noticed that pirates were getting dangerously close to the house. 

  


"_Elizabeth!?_" I screamed, knowing full well that it was she the pirates were after. But as I spun away towards her room, a heavy medallion around my neck slapped against my skin, and my breath caught again. The medallion....was mine a target too? Oh, no, please, _no_....

  


"Heather!" the voice of Elizabeth Swann jerked me from my terrified thoughts, and I spun to see her dashing madly down the hall. "Pirates!" she cried, her hair swirling around her head as she ran. "Where is Christine?!"

  


"Right here." Christine tumbled out of the spare room, a robe half-pulled on, her sunbeam hair a blazing sunglow around her pale face. "What's going on?"

  


"Pirates," I hissed, watching a terrified expression cross my best friend's face for only a moment, then replaced with fierce determination. 

  


"Here to rescue their Captain Sparrow, no doubt," Christine growled, then jumped as a loud, thudding knock rang at the front door. I don't know how that old man could not have heard the pandemonium outside, but still the butler moved to open the door for the guests knocking outside, which was, of course, only proper. 

  


"Don't!?!" Elizabeth cried, but it was far too late, as he opened the door, to see a pair of grinning pirates. (Pintel and Ragetti, if I recall correctly) 

  


"Hello, chump." Pintel fired once, and the poor old man fell stiffly to the floor. "Up there!"

  


"Girl!" another bellowed, then paused. "Girls!"

  


"Move!" Elizabeth yelped, and the three of us wasted no time in obeying. We were as desperate to get away as she was! Sarah, and that other maid - Estrella, was it? - pulled us into Elizabeth's room, and while I should have been trying desperately to get away, the only thing I could think of was why the heck there were two maids there when there was only one in the movie? We _were_ changing things!

  


"Miss Swann, they've come to kidnap you!" Estrella gasped, frantic.

  


"What?!" the true meaning of pirates attacking her own home hadn't seemed to sunk in quite yet.

  


"You're the Governor's daughter!" Sarah hissed, urgently, and realization dawned on Elizabeth's face. 

  


"They haven't seen you," she whispered, turning to the two maids. "Hide, and first chance you get, run to the fort." She glanced once at us, and I knew a personal battle was going on behind her eyes. "You'll need to hide too. Maybe....maybe they'll leave you alone."

  


"They're _pirates_?!" Christine gaped, the true gravity of the situation hitting her far harder. "If they don't intend to, well, _you know_, then I'm a monkey's uncle!"

  


There was a crash at the door, and before we could ascertain Christine's family's odd marrying habits, Pintel and Ragetti slammed the door open. Elizabeth, in a dramatic display of bravery, smashed poor Pintel in the face with her bed warmer. (Wait a minute, did I saw "poor Pintel"? I mean, nasty, vile, horribly _evil_ Pintel!)

  


"Gotcha!" Ragetti crowed gleefully, snatching hold of our companion. Terrified that she might not get it quite right now that we were here too (after all, the two maids confirmed it - we _were_ changing things!), I leapt forward and slammed my hand down on the catch, showing a rain of glowing embers and coals onto poor - _horrible_ - Ragetti's head. "It's hot! It's on me!" he wailed as Elizabeth, Christine and I hightailed a fast exit out of there.

  


We attempted to dart down the stairs, but pirates, everywhere the swarming pirates, blocked our way. Now, normally, I don't think I would've noticed something like this, but a sudden flash ran through my mind, and I wailed, _"Run_!"

  


Not questioning, the other two followed me up the stairs, and just in time, too, as a cannon ball screamed through the front of the house, splinters flying everywhere as the projectile took out one of its own men. Elizabeth led us into another room, slamming the lock shut. She looked around frantically, looking for a weapon, her eyes alighting on the sword display on the wall over the fireplace. Christine ran to help her as I darted for the window - but I should have known, there was no way I was getting out there. 

  


There was a slam on the door, and we all froze. "The closets!" I hissed, and we darted for those precious, life-saving doors across the room - but in the rush, Christine and Elizabeth ended up in one closet, and I in the other. There came another crack and the splintering of wood, then another, and then came Pintel's voice calling, "We know you're here, Poppet."

  


"Poppets," Ragetti corrected him, and I winced. Maybe, maybe....they'd open my closet, instead of theirs, and Elizabeth and Christine would be fine, and I'd just call for Parley, and convince them that my medallion was the real thing, or, maybe....

  


"Come out, and we promise we won't hurt you," Pintel called, and when there was a momentary pause, I heard the stiffled snickers of Ragetti. "We will find you, poppet. You've got something of ours, and it calls to us. The gold calls to us."

  


"Gold calls..." Ragetti echoed. 

  


And then came the crash of a closet door being violently ripped open, and the strangled gasps of two young women being startled by pirates. Elizabeth, being the reliably quick thinker she is, acted first. "Parley!" 

  


"What?" Ragetti's voice floated into the closet, and I sighed with relief. Okay, Elizabeth will be fine, now, hopefully Christine will have been smart enough to stuff herself in a corner, and now the pirates will have left, and she'll be fine, and we - 

  


"Didn't you hear her?" my best friend's voice reached my ears, and I suppressed a groan, leaning back against the wall. _No, Christine, no...._ "She said _Parley_. So Parely."

  


Elizabeth's voice cut across the stunned silence, effectively muffling the slight sound of me dully thudding my head against the inside of the closet wall. 

  


"Parley. I invoke the right of parley. According to the code of the brethren, set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholomew , you have to take me to your Captain."

  


"I know the code," Pintel snarled back.

  


"If an adversary demands parley you can do them no harm until the parley is completed," Elizabeth insisted, breathlessly trying to convince them.

  


"To blazes with the code!" Ragetti responded, obviously eager to snatch the gold from around her neck.

  


"She wants to be taken to the Captain." Pintel's voice stopped the other pirate. I strained my ears, still leaning in the closet, trying hard not to breathe. "And she'll go without a fuss. We must honor the code."

  


There was a slight scuffle, the sound of moving girls, two young ladies being dragged along by two pirates, when there was a slight pause, and Ragetti's voice said softly, "Wait."

  


"Wot's the holdup?!" Pintel snapped irritably, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

  


"Do you feel it?" Ragetti asked in his almost child-like, slightly breathless voice. "It's...a pull, like. Like maybe there's another piece of gold..."

  


"Idiot!" Pintel snarled. "This is the last one!"

  


"But I feel it..." Ragetti whined, his voice coming closer and closer to my hiding place, as I pushed myself back, as though I thought I could melt back into the wall. "It's right here..."

  


"C'mon!" There was the decisive sound of a hand on human flesh, and the yelp of a man hit by one he'd thought he could trust. "Can't keep the Captain waiting! Let's go!"

  


It took a couple moments, the sounds of a whimpering pirate that really was quite like a child, the pushing of a pirate, the struggles of a woman trying to keep her steps, the hissed curses of a fair haired prisoner. Then their voices faded, and I breathed again. "No," I whispered, my fingers impulsively clawing their way up to my throat - and the string hanging around it. It couldn't be....maybe he sensed the other medallion? The medallion....the medallion that was getting away!

  


I threw the closet doors open, it not even occurring to me to check for pirates first, and plunged put of the room and into the insanity of the Governor's house.

  


Looking back on it now, I don't know how I survived that craziness. Pirates were everywhere, looting the treasures, burning, sacking, taking whatever caught their fancy. And through this mess stumbled a teenaged girl, robe open, hair curling and blazing around my face like golden fire. I barely avoided dozens of pirates, my foot caught in a thousand places that could have stopped me, and yet I kept going. I heard once that there is some angel that looks over madmen, pirates and drunks. My only explanation is that this angel decided that night to show mercy on me, for I soon found myself on the street, running after the hurried group of pirates and girls. But that angel's eyes seemed, for a moment, to turn itself away from me, as the edge of my robe caught on a half-burned and twisted metal fence, and I stumbled, falling forward onto the cobblestones. The robe would not become entangled, and though I pulled, it had wrapped itself around me in an awkward way that I couldn't pull it off. I could only watch, helpless, as Elizabeth and the one person her who actually understood what was happening to me were pushed into a boat, a boat that headed out into the harbor.

  


I was alone. 

  


Oh God, I was _alone_. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Welcome to the Black Pearl

Well...sorry that took so bloody long. I was desperately trying to find inspiration, and unfortunately, I can't find the soundtrack for _Pirates_ anywhere, not even on the net. *pouts* Isn't life annoying that way sometimes? And then Harry Potter's been trying to force me to work on that story I started this summer......ack! 

  


I swear, a girl can't get any work done when she has a weekend off......sheesh. University.

  


_J. Liha: _Aww....so generous of you to share Jack with me! Don't worry, you'll get him back (hopefully) in one piece when I'm done with him!

  


_Brem Nakada: _Y'know, all that praise is gonna go to my head....:D Thanks! Sometime I need that! Don't worry, here comes another chapter....hopefully you can talk coherently when it's done!

  


_Lyssa2: _Thanks! You make me blush! See? *blushes* 

  


_Huntress16: _Begging and everything? Whee! Here ya' go!

  


_Quicksilvermad: _Oh, man, I know what you mean! That _really_ drives me nuts, when I'm reading a story set in the 1700s, and suddenly someone says that something is "cool". Excuse me? It's not-warm? Yeah. Thanks, though, I really am trying!

  


_Andi Horton: _You're back! *huggles* More is coming! Yay! (Ditto on the University finally settling down thing, too)

  


_HewasaPirate...: _Yeah, Andi was the inspiration for this fic, actually. Go figure!

  


And, for those of you who have not figured this out yet.....I. Do. Not. Own. Pirates. 

  
  


*******

  
  


Alright. You are warned now. This chapter contains....a spoiler of sorts. Well, it's a spoiler in that, in order for this chapter to be written, you must accept one central idea that, well, could kinda ruin a later piece of information for you. 

  


On that note, if you don't want _any_ kind of spoiler to ruin the story for you, skip this chapter. For that matter, skip every other chapter until a later point when I will tell you that it is safe to read again. However, that would result in you having _no_ idea what's going on, and so I advise you shrug your shoulders, ignore the fact that it's a spoiler, and read on.

  


Alright?

  


Then, here's the spoiler : Christine does not die. She is alright, and at some point, I am reunited with her.

  


Why is this important? Because if she were not alright and I were _not_ reunited with her, then there would be no way for me to discover just _what_ happened to her and Elizabeth in that period of time that I was separated from her. And unless you want massively gaps in the story that leave you scratching your head and asking "huh?", then I advise that you accept that fact, and read on. 

  


Thank you.

  


Now, onto the actual story.

  


As I have already ascertained, I do meet up with Christine again. And when I met up with her again, after giving her the biggest hug of her life, I immediately demanded to know _exactly_ what happened.

  


And this is what she told me. 

  


After being dragged out of that closet by two hygienically-challenged pirates, she and Elizabeth were led out of the house, down the street, and into a small, slightly rotten, not-very-sturdy-looking rowboat. Once inside that rowboat, the pirates accompanying them began to row towards a big, black ship out in the moonlit waters. 

  


"I don't like the looks of this," Christine leaned over and whispered to Elizabeth, which earned a nod from Elizabeth and a bellowed "Shut it, you!" from one of the pirates. 

  


The rowboat pulled up alongside the larger, darker ship, and hands reached both up from the pirates beside them, and down from the pirates above them. They were pushed/pulled/hauled up onto the deck, where, slightly breathless, Elizabeth and Christine found themselves surrounded by a nasty-looking pirate crew. One particularly large, scary looking pirate with the weirdest piercing/tattoos/odd mutilations stood menacingly before them, and grated, "I didn't know we were takin' on captives."

  


"She's invoked the right of parley with Captain Barbossa," Pintel told him, half angry, half nervously. 

  


"I am here to negotiate-" Elizabeth began, but was sharply backhanded across the face by the large pirate. 

  


("Bo'sun?" I asked Christine. She stared at me like I'd grown an extra head again. I sighed, and figured that that was probably who she was talking about. From now on that big scary pirate will be called Bo'Sun.)

  


"You will speak when spoken to," he growled at her.

  


"Why you-" Christine clenched her fists at her side, as though moving to smack the huge pirate. "She invoked parley! You can't touch someone while they're under the protection of parley!"

  


A grizzled, older pirate snatched Bo'Sun's wrist. "The lady's right. Ye'll not lay a hand on those under the protection of parley."

  


Bo'Sun snarled, "Aye, sir." As he stepped back, Christine's narrowed eyes were boring death glares through his skull.

  


"My apologies, Miss," Captain Barbossa smiled at Elizabeth, then, noticing her, nodded at Christine. "Miss."

  


"Captain Barbossa," Elizabeth immediately took matters into her own hands. "I am here to negotiate the cessation of hostilities against Port Royal."

  


Barbossa chuckled, and Christine's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "There are a lot of long words in there, Miss; we're naught but humble pirates. What is it that you want?"

  


"We want you to leave and never come back," Christine snarled. 

  


Barbossa looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request...means no."

  


As Christine gaped at him, Elizabeth's jaw set and she marched over to the edge of the deck, pulling the medallion and it's necklace out of her dress collar. "Very well." She stretched her arm out, dangling the gold over the ocean. "I'll drop it."

  


Barbossa burst out in laughter. "Me holds are burstin' with swag and that bit of shine matters to us? Why?"

  


Elizabeth's self-assured veneer cracked a little, but her grim face was firmly back on before anyone (save Christine, who was getting pretty good at reading her by now) noticed. "It's what you've been searching for. I recognize this ship. I saw it eight years ago on the crossing from England."

  


Barbossa smirked. "Did ya now?" He asked in a decidedly patronizing tone.

  


"Fine, well, I suppose if it's worthless..." Elizabeth let out a little sigh, and let the cahin slip a little through her fingers. "Then there's no point in me keeping it."

  


The entire pirate crew lunged forward a step, as Elizabeth deftly caught the chain, and Christine took a nervous step towards the other girl, trying to avoid the swarming pirates. 

  


"Ah." Barbossa chuckled, calmly stepping forward, acting as though he, too, hadn't darted forward upon threat of dropping the gold in the ocean. "You have a name, Missy?"

  


"Elizabeth..." The girl's face twisted for a moment, thinking. "Turner. I'm a maid in the Governor's household." And she curtsied. 

  


"Miss Turner...?" Barbossa repeated.

  


"Bootstrap," Pintel muttered, just loud enough for Christine, who still stood next to him, to hear. She frowned, and turned, about to ask him what he meant when Barbossa interrupted, speaking again.

  


"And how does a maid come to earn a trinket like that? Family heirloom, perhaps?"

  


Elizabeth colored. "I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean."

  


"Very well, you hand it over, and we'll put your town to the rudder and never return." He held his hand out for the medallion, and Elizabeth, slowly, moved forward to place it in his hand.

  


"Our bargain?" Barbossa smirked, and looked down at the coin.

  


Christine stood closer to the captain than she had to Elizabeth, so now, for the first time, she could see what all the hubbub was about. All blood drained from her face. That was the _exact same medallion _that she and I had found in the theater! It couldn't be, it _wasn't_...

  


Barbossa closed his hand over the medallion, and walked away from the two girls. "Still the guns and stow 'em. Signal the men, set the flags, and make good to clear port."

  


"Wait!" A look of horror came over Elizabeth's face, and she hurried after the captain, Christine on her heels. "You have to take us back to shore! According to the code of the brethren - "

  


Barbossa spun on his heel, making both girls shrink back. "First, your return to shore was not part of our negotiations nor our agreement so I must do nothing. And secondly, you must be a pirate for the pirate's code to apply and you're not. And thirdly, the code is more what you'd call "guidelines" than actual rules." His grin made chills run down Christine's spine. "Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, ladies." 

  
  
  



	7. Two Can Play at That Game

Mwa ha! Missie is gonna set a record for the fastest creation of a new chapter ever in her writing history! *happy dance*

  


In other words, folks, here comes chapter seven, a whole....I dunno, lots of time before schedule.

  


This _is_ all Christine's fault, of course. She told me that she thought I should be able to write _at least_ eight new chapters when I had three days off of school. (I love weekends!) I told her she was smoking green bananas. 

  


_However_.....

  


This story _is_ for her, so I decided to try my darndest, and write at least a _couple _chapters. So here's chapter seven. *sighs*

  


And I _still_ don't own any pirates. Darn.

  
  


***

  
  


That night was, suffice to say, not the best one in my life. If I recall correctly, I lay there sobbing on the street for what seemed like hours but was, in reality, probably only about 10 minutes before a nice townsman found me and cut me free. Now, freed from the stupid twisted metal gate, my fist intent was, obviously, to find Christine. But I wasn't stupid, and I _did_ know what was going on, and I knew, better than anyone else, that the lack of cannon fire meant that the _Black Pearl_ was leaving and that there was no _way_ I was going to be able to get to them. 

  


Well, lovely. 

  


Let's see...what would the _next _course of action be? Find Jack/Will/Norrington/some other angsty man going after Elizabeth and follow. Okay.....

  


That was somewhat easier said than done.

  


First: Jack was still in prison, and until Will springs him sometime tomorrow, there wasn't any way of getting to him.

  


Second: Will was currently laying on the street, unconscious. I should know. I was, at that very moment, sitting on the cobblestones beside his still body. He's quite attractive when he's comatose, y'know. So it wasn't even like I could ask him to spring Jack out early. 

  


Third: Norrington was currently attempting to protect his fort. He'd be planning to rescue Elizabeth in a couple hours, and there is no _way_ he'd want to take a hysterical teenager along.

  


Fourth: Well....I was a stranger here. Nobody's going to take me along just on my word, and _certainly_ not while I'm running around in a nightgown and a ripped and otherwise mutilated housecoat. I'd have to be creative. 

  


In the darkness of the night, despite everything that had/was happening, despite Will unwillingly sleeping beside me, despite my tattered clothes, despite the burning and ravaged town, despite the soot that streaked my face, I grinned. 

  


I could be creative.

  
  


***

  
  


You know what? I had kept reading these fanfics where a teenaged girl much like myself gets herself somehow sent into the movie, much like the circumstance Christine and I had found ourselves in. However, in many of these stories, the characters had to fend for themselves when it came to clothing and the like, and they always managed to get their corsets on all by themselves.

  


And you know what?

  


It's bloody _impossible_!

  


Ever wondered why all those old pictures had one woman holding onto the bedpost while a servant or her sister or mother or someone pulled on the strings to make it tight? That's because that's practically the _only_ way to get those things tight enough. And as I had found myself alone in the Governor's house, the pirates gone and the maids fled to the fort, this was going to be rather difficult.

  


And that was why I was standing in the middle of Elizabeth's bedroom, a corset around my waist, the strings on the back tied to the bedpost. I leaned forward, trying to pull the strings tight. This would be a rather embarrassing situation to be in, should anyone have walked into the room.

  


It took me a good deal longer to get the corset tightened this way than it ever would have had I had help, and it certainly wasn't as tight as it had been earlier. But beggars can't be choosers, and so I struggled to get that blue dress back on myself. I had to do some sucking in to get the dress all the way buttoned up, but it was on. Pulling on a pair of Elizabeth's walking slippers, I headed for her dressing table.

  


Tackling my hair with Elizabeth's brush, my mind was free to wander. It had seemed like a good idea when I first came up with it - dressing up like a proper 18th century young lady, and sweet-talking my way onto the _Interceptor_. But now that I thought of it, it seemed rather....ridiculous. Really, how was I going to be able to pull that off? It was just hopeless.

  


I slammed the brush down on the table, with enough force to send one of the bottles of perfume adorning it toppling over the edge. It shattered on the wooden floor, releasing clouds of sweet smelling fragrance. I stood, hands resting heavily on the table, my fists shaking. I _couldn't _give up. I couldn't! Christine needed me! She had no idea what was going on, and now there wasn't even a chance that I could explain anything to her!

  


I shook my head fiercely, then slowly sat back down. "You can do this," I murmured to myself, trying to calm down. "You've done stupid things before. You'll get this figured out. Christine _needs_ you." My fingers strayed up to the medallion still hanging around my neck. And besides all that, I still needed to find out what was going on with this medallion.

  


Smiling grimly, I nodded to myself. I can do this.

  


Man, that perfume _reeked_.

  
  


***

  
  


It wasn't particularly easy, sneaking around town in a dress with more underskirts than any person in their sane ming should be wearing, a corset, and rigid, buckle-up shoes. In fact, it was downright difficult, and had I not left the mansion before sunrise, I never would have found the prison before Will and the Commodore had their spat and Will ran to release the pirate captain. 

  


The prison was rather dark and disturbing. Had I not seen the movie and visited that old keep back home, I would have been shocked enough to....I don't know, but definitely _not_ just march down the stairs, ignoring the fact that there were no guards at the moment and acting as though I was supposed to be there. And so I strode down the stairs as well I could, holding my skirts up (but not showing more than my ankles - I knew what kind of rumors would start spreading about me here if I didn't) and my head high. 

  


As I entered the main body of the prison, there were three things that immediately caught my eye. One was the large hole in the wall of one cell, and the sunlight streaming in through it. Second was the splintered bone that stuck out of the keyhole on the cell beside it. Third was the pirate laying on the floor of said cell, hat over his eyes. 

  


"Jack Sparrow." I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  


No answer. 

  


"Jack Sparrow." I repeated. 

  


There came a grunt from the - apparently - sleeping pirate, and his mouth moved enough to say, "Captain."

  


I sighed. I really didn't have time for games. Much as I would have _loved _to trade banter with the absolutely most sexies-uh, that is, the pirate, I really didn't have that kind of leisure time. "_Captain _Jack Sparrow."

  


Finally, he moved, reaching a hand up to lift the hat just off his face, and he opened one eye. "Ah yes. The clumsy maid on the street."

  


I flushed, and tried to hide it. "Captain."

  


"Your smithy suggestion got me arrested, you realize." he said, dropping the hat back over his eyes and putting his hand back behind his head. 

  


"I know." I said shortly, trying to get his attention again. "Look, I need your help. My friend has been....kidnapped. By the _Black Pearl_."

  


He let out a grunt, pretending to ignore me, but I was pretty sure I'd gotten his attention.

  


"I know you know where they berth," I said, his inattention starting to get on my nerves. Now I knew how Will felt. "I need your help."

  


"And why should I-"

  


Whatever Jack had been about to say was cut off by the sound of someone thundering down the stone stairs. A moment later, Will burst into the prison, and stopped dead when he saw me.

  


"Good morning," I said, attempting to be polite. 

  


"You're the ship-wrecked girl." he said, matter-of-factly. Jack, I noticed, pleased, lifted his hat up enough to look at me again, though I don't think Will noticed that.

  


"Yes. Now. Can you _please_ talk some sense into him?" I asked, waving a hand at the - now 'sleeping' again - pirate. 

  


Will glanced over at Jack, then nodded once. "You, Sparrow!"

  


Jack didn't look up. "Aye."

  


"You are familiar with that ship, the _Black Pearl_?" 

  


Jack shrugged. "I've heard of it."

  


Will scowled. "Where does it make berth?"

  


The pirate laughed lightly. "Two in one morning what are the chances?" Then he reached up to lift the hat a little. "Where does it make berth? Have you not heard the stories? Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants sailed from the dreaded _Isla de Muerta_. It's an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is."

  


Will leaned forward on the bars. "The ship's real enough. Therefore its anchorage must be a real place. Where is it?" 

  


Jack shrugged, studying his nails. "Why ask me?"

  


"Because you're a pirate," I shot at him, startling Will, who I think had forgotten that I was there.

  


A smirk played across Jack's face as he studied me for a moment, then turned to look at Will as though he'd made the comment. My reaction to the release of his attention was something along the lines of 'Excuse me while I melt into a puddle of drool.' "And you want to turn pirate yourself, is that it?"

  


Will looked properly scandalized. "Never! They took Miss Swann!"

  


Jack's eyes flitted towards me for a moment, and I'm sure he was remembering what I'd said about my friend being kidnaped by the _Black Pearl_. "Oh, so it _is_ that you've found a girl!" He shrugged, and dropped the hat back over his eyes. "Well, if you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue and so win fair lady's heart you'll have to do it alone, mate. I see no profit in it for me."

  


Will looked like he was fighting an internal battle with himself. "I can get you out of here." he blurted out finally. 

  


The hat rose, and with it, Jack's eyebrows. "How's that? The key's run off."

  


I stepped back as Will went into Blacksmith mode "I helped build these cells. These are half pin-barrel hinges." He turned, grabbed the bench by the wall, and slid it into the space in the bars. "With the right leverage and a proper application of strength, the door will lift free." 

  


Jack pushed himself up into a seated position. "What's your name?"

  


"Will Turner."

  


Jack mused that for a moment. "That will be short for William, I imagine. Good, strong name. No doubt named for your father, aye?"

  


Will looked slightly confused. "Yes."

  


"Aha." Jack nodded, and pushed himself to his feet. "Well, Mr. Turner, I've changed me mind. If you spring me from this cell, I swear, on pain of death, that I shall take you to the _Black Pearl _and your bonny lass. Do we have an accord?"

  


Will leaned forward, pushing his hands through the bars to shake his hand. "Agreed."

  


"Agreed." Jack didn't waste time. "Get me out."

  


Will pushed down, and lifted the door free, swinging it off. I only jumped aside, just in time. "Hurry, someone will have heard that."

  


"Not without my effects." Jack immediately strode for the corner where they'd hung his things. 

  


"Good, now we can go get them back!" I said, and I couldn't help the grin that had spread over my face.

  


"Now, hold on 'ere," Jack said, holding a hand up. "'We'?"

  


"Yeah," I looked at him, frowning a little. "You, me, and Will-"

  


"Oh, no. No, no." Jack shook his head. "You're _not_ comin' along, luv."

  


"Why _not_?!" I demanded, hands on my hips, ignoring Will, who was clearing his throat, trying to get us to move. "They're _my_ friends, kidnapped!"

  


Jack threw up his hands. "Luv, you _can't_ come! It...it's bad luck to take a woman on board a ship!"

  


"Well, I _never_-" although I had to admit, I was pretty impressed that he thought of me as a 'woman'. 

  


"Look," Will interrupted. "You can't come. The Governor would never forgive us. You'll have to stay behind. I'm sorry," he added, when I turned to glaring at him. "But you can't come."

  


"You see? The blacksmith won't let you come." Jack grinned, glad to be off the hook. "Now, if you'll excuse me, luv, we really _must_ be going." He grabbed my hand off my hip, kissed it, then he and Will dashed up the stairs, and were gone.

  


I scowled. Now I was ticked off, and not even a Jack-kiss on my hand was making it any better. Stalking up the stairs, I immediately headed straight for the docks - and the _Interceptor_. 

  


"Two can play at _that_ game."

  
  
  
  
  



	8. Rum, anyone?

Mwa ha! I am updating again! *happy rum dance* ©®™ (yes, though I did not _invent_ the happy rum dance ((Jack did! Whoot!)) I did, however, begin using it regularly instead of just the *happy dance* so it's _mine_!?)

  


*happy rum dance*©®™

  


_J. Liha: _*shifty eyes* Just where did you _think_ it was going, I want to know. Yes, and poor Christine....^_^

  


_Child of the Gods: _Thanks. And.....here's an update!

  


_Eva: _Reviewer # 30! *huggles* Yay! Love you so much! Thankies!

  
  


And, of course, as always, I own nothing but a picture of Johnny and Orli right above my bed....no money, no pirates, just dreams. 

  
  


***********

  
  


Murderous thoughts were dancing through my head as I made my way for the wharf. It wasn't a very long trip fortunately, seeing as the prison was conveniently close to the docks. I think that was so it was less of a trip when bringing pirates in. 

  


Jack was amazing. Will was amazing too, although he lacked that special....Jack-ness. But right at that moment, I wanted to skewer them. Okay, so maybe not _skewer_ them, _per se_, but I certainly wanted to see them squirm. I mean, the _nerve_. Bad luck to have a woman on board, indeed. Well, we'll see about that, shall we?

  


The best part about knowing what was going to happen was the sweet knowledge that they weren't going to be stupid enough to try and take the _Dauntless_. Yes, they were going to take it on a joy-ride of sorts, but it wasn't permanent. 

  


Instead, I headed over to the dock where the _Interceptor_ was docked, soldiers marching in and out like red ants, carrying a variety of supplies. Now, all _I _had to do was get on that ship somehow. 

  


I needed a distraction, and I needed it now.

  
  


***

  
  


"Oh! It's horrible! Horrible!"

  


Natty and neat white wigs snapped in my direction all over the dock. And there I stood, looking like I might fall over any moment (_Thank_ you, corsets!), hair a mess, face red. "That - that _pirate_!"

  


One of the more intelligent looking soldiers leapt forward. "What about a pirate, miss?!"

  


"That foul _Sparrow_ creature! He - he's escaped! I only just escaped him!" I tried to make it look like I was about to burst into tears any second. Like I'd _want_ to escape Jack. Really.

  


"Which way did he go?" the lead soldier demanded, even as all the other soldiers around him snapped to attention, dropping cargo, grabbing guns. There was no way the near ravaging of an innocent young girl was going to go un-avenged.

  


"That - that way," I whimpered, pointing towards the Governor's house. 

  


They thundered past me, leaving only a few soldiers behind - those few continued guarding the ship and carrying trunks and boxes on board. "Here," one of the few left behind said to me kindly, leading me to a large, heavy looking chest. "Have yourself a sit down. Would you like a spot of tea, per'aps?"

  


An idea came to me, and I had to smirk. "That would be lovely. Thank you."

  


As he hastened off to get me a 'spot of tea', I quickly stood. Checking to make sure noone was looking my way, I popped the chest open. Inside....had to be at least 50 bottles of....._rum_. 

  


"Ah well, it'll serve Jack right," I whispered, and began pulling bottles out of the trunk. They were deposited under the dock - fortunately it was close enough to the water that they didn't make that big of splashes. Finally, I had emptied the chest and was about to dump the last bottle over too, when I paused. "Aw, I can save him _one_ bottle."

  


I know. I'm a softy.

  


Checking once more to make sure no one was watching me, I stepped into the trunk, pulling my knees up to my chin, shoving my skirt in around me, and tucking the bottle of rum between my knees and torso. Taking a corner of my dress, I folded it up, and tucked it into the hinges of the lid. Lowering my head down into the trunk, I let go of the lid to let it thunk back down - but because of my dress in the hinge, it didn't lock shut. 

  


Grinning to myself, I wriggled into a slightly more comfortable fetal position. The inside of the trunk smelled kinda odd - rum-ish smelling, I think. Ah well, I was feeling darn proud of myself for having come up with this all by myself. I _knew_ I could be creative!

  


I didn't have to wait long, before I heard the clumping of approaching British soldier footsteps. "This one?" One of the voices asked, and another replied.

  


"The captain wants this one in his office, I believe."

  


"Right," the other voice agreed, and it took a severe biting of my tongue to keep from yelping when the trunk was quite suddenly - not all that smoothly - lifted off the dock. For about a minute, there was only the rather sickening swaying of the trunk and the grunts of the two men carrying it, then there was an even more sickening drop and thud as the trunk I was in was dropped without ceremony what I could only assume was the deck of the _Interceptor_. 

  


"That's a mite heavy," the first voice panted, sounding exhausted.

  


Nice way to make snide comments about a lady's size, gentlemen.

  


"We'll just rest a moment," the second gasped, sounding as tired. "Then we need to bring this into the captain's quarters."

  


"Right then. Why - will you look at that! The latch isn't quite caught!" _Oh...no...._ "Fancy seeing what the captain keeps in his personal stores?"

  


I found myself shaking my head furiously. _No, no! Do _not _open the box!_

  


"Private Roach!" the second voice snapped. "You are out of line! Under _no_ circumstances should you be suggesting such a thing!"

  


I suddenly _loved_ soldier number two. 

  


"Alright, then." Roach grumbled, sounding most put-out. "Then we'd better close the fool thing."

  


_NO!_

  


Too late. He pressed down hard on it, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping beyond anything that the corner of my dress would hold it open. "It's not - ahh!" There was a soft ripping noise, then the distinctive click as the lip snapped shut. 

  


I was locked in. _I was locked in a rum chest_!?!

  


Don't panic. Don't panic. Don'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanic.....

  


The litany ran through my mind, but it didn't really seem to be doing me much good. Instead I lay there, in the darkness, convinced that I was never going to see the light of day again. I was going to die in here, just me and my lone bottle of rum. Would I starve to death? Or maybe I'd suffocate in here. Heck, maybe I'd luck out. Maybe Jack would rescue me. Yeah, you just keep thinking that.

  


Sudden shouts broke my concentration on the rather morose subject. Shouts of "They've taken the ship! Sparrow and Turner! They've taken the _Dauntless_!" 

  


And then came the thundering footsteps of soldiers as they raced up the dock, up the gangway, and onto the deck. Suddenly there was a cacophony around my small (and admittibly stuffy) prison, soldiers running and shouting, but still I heard one voice say "There are too few of you here! Where are the rest?"

  


"They went after Sparrow, sir," another voice replied, even as I felt the unmistakable shift as the _Interceptor_ moved away from the dock. "He attacked a young miss, sir, and we they went to intercept him-"

  


"Fine!" the one who seemed to have more authority made a sound of disgust. "We'll deal with that later. Move!"

  


There was a sudden clamor, and suddenly that authoritative voice rang out again. I realized, with a start, that that was actually Commodore Norrington. "Search every cabin, every hold, down to the bilges!"

  


There was the fading sound of footsteps that told me that Norrington's men were doing as was told, when there came the solid thunk of two pairs of feet landing firmly on the deck of the _Interceptor_. Those two pairs of feet split off, and within moments, I heard the sound of swords cutting boarding ropes, then the crack of the sails as they filled with wind. The _Interceptor _was sailing.

  


"Sailors!" The slightly panicked voice of Norrington, now fading away slightly, nearly made me laugh. "Back to the _Interceptor_! Now!"

  


"Quickly men!" Another shouted, and I heard the splashes of several unsuccessful boarders.

  


"Thank you, Commodore," Jack's intoxicating voice called, half-mocking. "For getting us ready to make way. We'd have a hard time of it by ourselves!"

  


There was more myriad shouting from the other ship, and, dimly, the sound of a crunching lifeboat being destroyed under the prow of a much larger _Dauntless_. Laughter rang out from Jack, and the hesitant laughter of Will joined a few moments later. 

  


"The looks on their faces!" Jack chortled, sounding for all the world like a proud pirate captain he was. "This, my boy, calls for celebration."

  


"Celebration?" Will repeated, sounding much more hesitant, but already there came the sound of Jack randomly opening boxes and barrels, using his sword where a knot or a nail impended his progress. 

  


Half of me desperately wanted Jack to open my trunk - not only would I be rescued, but I'd be rescued by _him_. The other half really _didn't_ want him to open the chest - then he'd know I snuck aboard, and I really _didn't_ want to know what Jack was like when he was angry.

  


Unfortunately, that particular decision was not up to me, and the Fates seemed to be in a particularly vengeful mood. 

  


Sunlight flooded into my cramped prison, and, blinking, I looked up to see the wide-eyed face of one Captain Jack Sparrow. 

  


Grinning as best I could, I held the last bottle of rum up.

  


"Rum?"

  
  
  
  
  


Hey people! I want 50 reviews now! That's my goal! My job is to write, your job is to review, so now that I've done _my_ job, go out there and do yours!

  


Savvy? 

  
  



	9. To Tortuga we go!

I am BACK!!

  


Sheesh, just can't get rid of me, can you?

  


Hmm....now, where are my 50 comments? I only see 36.....that's lacking! *pouts* C'mon, you all say you like the story....where are the reviews?

  


You know you wanna.......

  


_Monitor: _I can't end it there? Alright, I'll keep going....is that alright, then?

  


_Huntress16: _Yeah, I figured rum might just do the job....thanks!

  


_COTG: _I can make some wild guesses as to who you are.....and I'm pretty sure I know, but I shall not say a thing in case I embarrass someone.....Savvy.

  


_Quicksilvermad: _Yes, I'd say you 'did your job' quite well! Thankies! 

  


_Lyssa2: _Yay! I am not a Mary-Sue! *happy rum dance* I'm glad you like it, too. Makes me feel speciallys!

  


_Bright Eyes: _Sorry about the abrupt ending, honest. But here's more now, is that alright then? 

  


And yes, if I absolutely _must_....*ahem* I do NOT OWN THE BLOODY PIRATES!! Happy?

  
  


**************

  
  


"That was a dirty, low hand trick, luv." One of Jack's fingers left it's death grip around the neck of the rum bottle to point at me.

  


"And it was dirty and low handed of you to leave me behind simply because I'm not a man." I retorted, arms crossed over my chest. I was sitting on the deck, my back leaning against the low railing that surrounded the quarter deck. Will sat across the way, whet-stone in hand as he carefully sharpened the edge of his sword, and Jack stood between us, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around the lone bottle of rum I had kept.

  


Jack sighed, waving bottle and hand lazily. "The blacksmith said you couldn't come."

  


I rolled my eyes. "Before 'the blacksmith' gave you an _excuse_ for not taking me along, you had already decided not to bring me. Really. Like a woman's bad luck on a ship, anyway." I scowled, and sulkily turned away, resting my arms on the railing and glaring out at the steely waves. I know, I was acting like an immature teenybopper, but every so once in awhile, a girl just gets annoyed. 

  


There was a sigh somewhere behind me, then before I could turn, Jack crouched beside me on the deck. I jumped. I admit it. You would too, if someone that good-looking just suddenly crouched beside you, rum bottle in hand, and sighed. 

  


"Look, luv. You're not making it any easier on yourself." 

  


I turned back to face him, nearly jumping again as I realized just _how_ close he was to me now. Forcing calm into myself, I lifted an eyebrow. "How's that?"

  


He shook his head, beads tinkling together. "This is not a pleasure cruise, luv. And much as I _love_ having female accompaniment on board..." he shot me a lurid grin that made my face turn a remarkable shade of red. He shrugged, still sending a rather suggestive grin my way. "Ye can't say I didn't warn ye." 

  


He pushed himself up easily, and returned to his position at the wheel, humming a song that sounded remarkably like 'A Pirate's Life for Me'. 

  


Sighing heavily (though that wasn't really a brilliant idea, as I was _still_ wearing that bloody corset), I turned to look at Will. I frowned a little, trying to remember what small talk he and Jack had been making when Jack had taken to explaining who Will's father was. Something about his family, I think. Turning my head to one side, I furrowed my brows, examining Will's sweetly innocent face as he polished his blade. What would lead a young man like him to be on a ship ravaged by pirates?

  


"Will," I called softly, making him look up. "Where's your family? Why are you here, in the Caribbean, all by yourself?"

  


Will furrowed his brows a moment, as though wondering why I would ask, but didn't seem to mind. Jack glanced up at Will for a moment, then returned his eyes to the horizon.

  


Will smiled, and said, "When I was a lad living in England, my mother raised me by herself. After she died, I came out here, looking for my father."

  


Jack's eyebrows raised as he lazily leaned on the wheel. "Is that so?" he drawled, sounding uninterested. I shot him a dirty look that made his eyebrows rise a little higher. 

  


"My father, Will Turner," the young blacksmith continued, unfazed. In fact, he turned those blue eyes at the pirate, frowning. "Jack, in jail it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help. Since that's what I wanted, I didn't press the matter. I'm not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father."

  


Jack sighed, leaning back. "I knew 'im." He said cooly. "Probably one of the few that knew him as William Turner. Everyone else just called him Bootstrap, or Bootstrap Bill."

  


"Bootstrap?" Will repeated, frowning. 

  


"Good man. Good pirate." Jack seemed to be almost deliberately baiting poor Will. "I swear you look just like him."

  


Will stood, violently, almost, and I too, stood, nervously gripping the railing. "It's not true! He was a merchant sailor; a good, respectable man who obeyed the law!"

  


"He was a bloody pirate, a scallywag."

  


Will drew his weapon, pointing the newly sharpened blade at Jack. "My father was _not_ a pirate."

  


Jack sighed. "Put it away, son. It's not worth you getting beat again."

  


Will's face twisted with what could only be called fury, and my hand on the railing tightened so much my knuckles were turning white. "You didn't beat me; you ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd kill you."

  


"And that's no incentive for me to fight fair, is it?" Jack spun the wheel hard, and I only just managed to duck the boom as it swept Will off his feet and held him over the ocean, his feet kicking helplessly as he clung on for dear life. 

  


"Jack!" I yelped, even though I knew that was going to happen. It was still rather disconcerting to see a friend dangling over the ocean at the mercy of another friend. (Wait, am I calling them my _friends_ now? Wow, that was odd.)

  


He ignored me. "Now as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance – you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that someday. And me, for example, I can let you drown but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy?"

  


"You're not alone," I pointed out, noting with a bit of satisfaction that Will's eyes widened a little desperately, and Jack almost - almost - grinned at me.

  


"And what do ye know about sailing, luv?"

  


I paused, then shrugged. "Honestly, absolutely nothing."

  


He nodded once. "I thought so." Jack spun the wheel back, depositing Will unceremoniously on the deck on his back. His own sword was immediately at his own throat, handle towards him, as Jack, eyebrows high, asked, "So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?"

  


Will paused, then took the sword from the captain. "Tortuga?"

  


Jack smirked. "Tortuga."

  


***

  


I don't think I _like_ Tortuga after all. I mean, at first thought, a town made up almost entirely of pirates sounds kinda....exciting, y'know? At least it sounds like something that could have some kind of promise, adventure and the like. 

  


Hate to break it to you, but it's not as romantic or exciting as it sounds. When you get right down to it, it's dirty, disgusting, and downright degrading. Every man we walked past looked me leerily up and down like I was a piece of _meat_ or something, and I found myself self-consciously wrapping my arms around myself as though they were looking right through my clothes. 

  


After some _completely _drunk pirate lurched into me and I let out a small shriek, Jack paused, and pulled me away, sliding one protective arm around me waist. That almost made me melt. "Stick close, luv. Although ye _still_ can't say I didn't warn ye."

  


I shot him daggers with my glare, and I can't explain exactly _why_ I did it, but I pulled away from Jack, crossing my arms again. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thanks." I said sharply.

  


He shrugged, and turned to Will. I _did_ stick pretty close to him, though. "More importantly, it is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep the sweet proliferus bouquet that is Tortuga , savvy? What do you think?" 

  


"It'll linger," Will said, rather stiffly. 

  


"_I _think this is revolting," I shuddered.

  


Jack laughed, and threw an arm around my shoulders. "I'll tell you mates, if every town in the world were like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted!"

  


I scowled, and might have just smacked him, had his eyes not lit up as he cried, "Scarlet!" and the heavily painted woman stalking towards us did it for me.

  


He blinked, hand reaching up to his smacked cheek. "Not sure I deserved that," he frowned, then looked up at the approach of another heavily painted woman. "Giselle!"

  


"Who was that?!" She demanded, then spotted me, with my shoulders still encompassed by Jack's arm. "And who's _that_?!"

  


I smirked at her, feeling particularly trouble-making-ish. "Problem, luv?"

  


"What?" Jack asked, not quite following what was going on, until Giselle's hand made contact with his face, and she marched off.

  


He winced, and glanced at me, silently cracking up. "I may have deserved that."

  
  
  


Whee! Another chapter! *happy rum dance*

  


And where are my 50 reviews, hmm?

  
  



	10. Undead Pirate Captains

Wow, you people astound me. I put up a new chapter, and within thirty seconds, I'm smacking my head against my desk, cause someone else has commented, and I didn't notice in time to include my thankfulness of them in that chapter. For that, I apologize should this ever happen to you. Yes, apologizing in advance. For the rest of you....wow. Bloody freaking the biggest thank-you _ever_ wow! I love you all! 

  


Okay....only a few more reviews to go! And then.....50! Whoot!

  


_Spontaneousxhumanxcombustion: _Aww...*cries* Now you've gone and done it - you make me feel loved! *huggles* Awww....I love you too! Thank you SO much! 

  


_Jenn: _*dance of happy rum-ness!* Yay! Me loves you! *huggles* I know...who _could_ hear them in theater, what with the drooling?

  


_Jehsahka: _Aww....thanks! 

  


_Alicia: _Two reviews in one go! Whoot! Thanks, I hope this "more" helps!

  


_Spontaneousxhumanxcombustion: _Yay! You're back! Coffee is good...so long as it induces reviews! Whoot! Glad you like it! 

  


_Lyssa2: _Aww...that's okay. It's still nice that you care enough to review! Yay! And seriously, I doubt that my adventure can be more interesting than _your_ adventure (Go read it people, if you haven't already! Lyssa2's writing is bloody amazing!), but it's the thought that counts. Whoot!

  


_Sirena: _Yeah, I know. If Jack weren't so darn charming... sheesh. Thanks for your support! 

  


_Jygri: _LOL, that makes it sound like one of those 'Got Milk' commercials! "Got Rum?" Oh dear.....thank you so much!

  


_Tabby Kitten: _Yay! Helping me reach my goal! *huggles* Thanks!

  
  


*sniff* You love me, you _really_ love me!

  


Of course, none of you love me enough to pay me, so it's suffice to say that, yet again, I own nothing, and I am making no money here.

  
  


***********

  
  


Christine crossed her arms, leaning back against the rough wooden wall, trying to adjust her robe so it covered her flimsy nightgown. She was really quite surprised at how much she seemed to care about this - for pete's sake, this 'nightgown' was practically a dress in and of itself!

  


She suspected that, primarily, the reason she cared was that Elizabeth seemed to care so _little_, and she was certain that the other girl _should_ be caring a good deal more. Instead, Elizabeth was storming around the small room like a fury scorned, fists clenched at her sides, muttering furiously. "Pirates!" she hissed, as she passed Christine on one of her sweeping passes of the room. "'Not part of the bargain', indeed!"

  


Christine sighed. "Elizabeth, maybe...it's alright. Really." They'd been in here all night, and all of this day, for that matter, and still Elizabeth marched around, growling.

  


Elizabeth stopped her pacing, glaring at the ground. "No, it isn't. We're on a _pirate ship_, totally against our will, and there's no way to get off. This is not alright."

  


Christine sighed. "Sorry."

  


Elizabeth groaned, and turned to face the younger girl. "I'm sorry...I just....I thought for sure that parley would work!"

  


Christine shrugged. "We're not dead, are we?"

  


Elizabeth almost smiled, when the door to the tiny cabin they were in slammed open, and Pintel and Ragetti stomped in, grinning like banshees.

  


"You'll be dining with the captain," he said to Elizabeth, holding a pile of fabric forward. "And he requests you wear this."

  


"Well, you may tell the captain that I am disinclined to acquiesce to his request." Elizabeth retorted sharply.

  


Pintel grinned. "He said you'd say that. He also said that if that be the case, you'll be dinin' with the crew....and you'll be naked."

  


Elizabeth snatched the dress, and his grin disappeared. "Fine," he snapped.

  


"And what about me?" Christine demanded, pushing forward to glare fiercely at the pirate.

  


He looked her up and down appreciatively, then sent her a lurid grin. "Perhaps ye can be dining with us tonight, poppet."

  


Christine sneered. "I'd rather not eat then." 

  


He smirked. "We'll see about that," and hurried out the door, a grinning Pintel at his heels.

  
  


***

  
  


Twenty minutes later, Christine and Elizabeth sat at the captain's dining table, which looked fair to fall over with all the food on it. Elizabeth wore the pouffy burgundy dress that Pintel and Ragetti had delivered, and Christine wore a plain, pale yellow dress that a fuming Pintel had delivered a few minutes after Elizabeth's, relaying her invitation to the dinner as well.

  


Christine suspected that Captain Barbossa had simply forgotten about her when inviting Elizabeth, and had probably had a good laugh over it all when Pintel went to him with his suggestion that she might join the crew instead. Indeed, there were traces of laughter in his eyes still as he sat across the table from them.

  


At that moment, Elizabeth was daintily cutting up her food, eating like a proper lady. Christine was staring at the row of forks, trying to figure out which one she should be using for what. 

  


"There's no need to stand on ceremony, nor call to impress anyone. You must be hungry." Barbossa smirked, and with great relief, the girls attacked the food. Elizabeth snatched a leg of some kind of bird and began hungrily mowing down, while Christine speared a potato with her fork and began eating it right off the fork. Barbossa smiled, and carefully poured two goblets of wine. "Try the wine," he offered them the glasses, and both thankfully gulped down the liquid. Christine immediately began coughing, having never drunk wine before and being _quite_ unprepared for the sharp taste that would burn down her throat. Barbossa nearly laughed, watching both of them closely, then lifted two green apples off the fruit bowl in the middle of the table. "And the apples? One of those, next."

  


Christine dropped her fork, it clattering off her plate. "It's poisoned," she whispered, suddenly realizing why he was offering them so much food. 

  


Across the table, Elizabeth dropped the bird leg she'd been eating.

  


"There would be no sense in killing ye, Miss Turner, Miss..." his eyes narrowed, as he examined Christine. "I don't believe I caught your name, Miss..."

  


Christine swallowed. She hadn't really given any thought to this. She certainly didn't want him to just...have her thrown overboard because she was useless, but from the way he was talking, she didn't think she wanted to say she was Turner, either. Something about the way he said that there'd be no sense killing 'Miss Turner' made her skin crawl. So, swallowing, Christine gave it her best shot. "Christine....Swann."

  


Elizabeth's eyes widened as she gaped across the table at her, and Barbossa's eyes narrowed. "Swann, ye say?"

  


"Yes. I am Governor Swann's niece. I'm visiting from...." She wracked her brains for a moment, trying to think of the town I'd said we came from. "St. George."

  


"Hmm." Barbossa eyed her carefully, then nodded. "Might make for a handsome bit of ransom, when all this is said and done." He grinned at her then, and turned back to Elizabeth. "Aye, Miss Turner, no sense in killin' ye."

  


Elizabeth held her chin up high. "Then release me. You have your trinket; I'm of no further value to you."

  


Christine winced. Elizabeth seemed to have a great knowledge _about_ pirates, but the poor girl really had no idea what she was dealing with.

  


Barbossa removed the medallion from the front of his jacket, and Christine felt that familiar thrill of _deja vu_ sweep up her spine. "You don't know what this is, do ye?"

  


Even as Elizabeth said, "It's a pirate medallion." Christine was leaning forward eagerly. She was convinced that I hadn't been telling the whole truth when I told her that the medallion was just a pirate's mark, and now that there was a medallion identical to the one the I still had with me at that moment, she wanted desperately to know what it was. She also had to wonder if maybe it might be able to tell her how a simple medallion had transported two teenaged girls into a movie/back in time/halfway down the world. 

  


"This is Aztec gold. One of 882 identical pieces they delivered in a stone chest to Cortés himself. Blood money paid to stem the slaughter he wreaked upon them with his armies. But the greed of Cortés was insatiable. So the heathen gods placed upon the gold…a terrible curse. Any mortal that removes but a piece from that stone chest shall be punished for eternity." Barbossa finished his grim story as Christine gaped, and Elizabeth looked at him derisively. 

  


"I hardly believe in ghost stories anymore, Captain Barbossa."

  


"Aye, that's exactly what I thought when we were first told the tale. Buried on an island that cannot be found except for those who know where it is. Find it, we did. There be the chest, inside be the gold, we took them all. Spent them and traded them. We frittered them away…on drink, and food, and pleasurable company." Barbossa sighed, playing with the medallion "The more we gave them away, the more we came to realize – the drink would not satisfy, food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust. We are cursed men, Miss Turner . Compelled by greed we were, and now we are consumed by it." 

  


Christine could only stare at the captain in horror. She knew that Elizabeth clearly did not believe, and in fact, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other girl slid a knife into her belt. But Christine was fairly sure that the pirate was telling the truth - and cursed coins would explain, somewhat, how they ended up here.

  


Swallowing, she whispered, "And how can you _end_ the curse?"

  


Barbossa watched her cooly. "There is one way we can end our curse. All the scattered pieces of the Aztec gold must be restored and the blood repaid. Thanks to ye," he pointed to Elizabeth, "we have the final piece."

  


"And the blood to be repaid?" Elizabeth demanded. 

  


"That's why there's no sense to be killin' ye - yet." He smirked, and offered the green apple. "Apple?"

  


Elizabeth sprang to her feet, knife in hand, and plunged it into the captain's chest. Christine let out a shriek, jumping to her feet. "What're you- " she gasped, but no blood seemed to be gushing from the wound. Instead, Barbossa merely gripped the handle of the knife, and with a squelching sound, pulled the blade from his chest.

  


"I'm curious, after killing me what was it you planning on doing next?"

  


Elizabeth screamed, and dashed for the doors. Christine would have followed - had Barbossa not stood directly between her and the door. A scream, followed by a succession more of them sounded from outside, and Christine whimpered, wondering what horrible things were happening to her friend.

  


Barbossa laughed, and reached forward to grab Christine's arm. "Might as well see what's going on too, Miss Swann?" And despite her struggles, he held her too close and tight to run, and as they stepped towards the door, Christine forgot to struggle as she swore her heart stopped. 

  


On the deck, panting and looking more terrified than anything, stood Elizabeth. But behind her....

  


The pirate crew was laughing, walking on rotting feet, weapons held in skeletal hands, eyes staring out of decaying skulls. The entire crew had been transformed into living skeletons.

  


"Look! The moonlight shows us for what we really are. We are not among the living and so we cannot die but neither are we dead. For too long I've been parched with thirst and unable to quench it. Too long I've been starving to death and haven't died. I feel nothing, not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea, nor the warmth of a woman's flesh." Barbossa reached towards Elizabeth, and as his hand fell under the moon's rays, it turned skeletal, rotton. Christine muffled a scream, even as Barbossa pulled her farther forward, moonlight falling over his entire body. "You'd best start believing in ghost stories, Miss Turner; you're in one!"

  
  


His teeth uncorked a wine bottle, and he tossed it back, wine splashing down his spine, spilling over the ribs, falling onto the deck. Now Christine shrieked, ripping herself out of his grasp as the wine poured over her dress, staining the pale yellow as though with blood. 

  


Elizabeth thundered past, throwing herself into the captain's quarters, and Christine followed, just barely able to get in before Elizabeth slammed the door shut behind them.

  


Together, the two girls fell to the floor, leaning back against the door, dry sobs racking their bodies. 

  


And outside the door, they heard the bone-chilling cackles of a pirate captain and his un-dead crew. 

  
  
  
  
  



	11. Well well If it ain't Captain Jack Sparr...

Ladies and Gentlemen......

  


I HAVE REACHED 50 REVIEWS!!!

  


*happy rum dances for about an hour*

  


I love you! *cries* You people are amazing, creative, wonderful, and you make me feel so loved! *cries some more* Aww.......

  


Thank you _so_ much!

  
  


Then, since you were so good at reaching 50 in just a few days....I don't suppose you could do this for me, could you? *bats eyes* Can we reach....75 review? That's only 25 more, not a whole lot! Really! *puppy eyes* Pretty please?

  
  


_Erm the Penguin: _Aww...thanks. Ditto on that not normally liking it thing - I've read a lot of really bad fics that way, with the exceptions of Andi Horton and Lyssa2, of course! I'm glad you like this one, though!

  


_Elderberry: _Yeah, the whole 'keeping some for myself' thing _could_ have been a possibility, had I not decided to use it to placate Jack with! Thanks for putting me on a favs list, too!

  


_Elderberry again: _Hey! *hee hee* Now everyone wants to know if she snags the sexah pirate? Mwa ha! Guess you'll just have to keep reading to see!

  


_Bright Eyes: _Thanks! Yeah, I wanted to include those two without sacrificing the overall _spirit_ of the movie, so I'm glad that I managed! 

  
  


Oh - ditto on all previous disclaimers. Despite a not-so-repressed desire to be a pirate, I haven't managed to "commandeer" _Pirates of the Caribbean_ away from Disney yet. Blast.

  
  


******

  
  


Frankly, I really wasn't all that sure that this was a good idea. Both Jack and Will had a bucket of water in hand, and mischievous grins on their faces. Nearly made me regret telling them that I'd seen a man sleeping with the pigs over in the next street. Jack had immediately wanted to know what the chap looked like, which led to an (apparently) funny pantomime on my part of trying to explain that the man had heavy mutton-chop sideburns. Apparently Jack didn't know what 'mutton-chops' were, so I attempted to explain to him what they looked like. I think he was being stupid on purpose, because soon I was getting rather red in the face and _incredibly_ frustrated; Will was silently laughing, grinning; and Jack just kept giving me these enduringly cute confused looks and asking me to explain it _one_ more time. 

  


When I finally threw up my hands in despair and said "He's just got hair all over his cheeks, alright? Stupid pirate!" Jack burst into laughter.

  


"Well, why didn't ye just say so in the _first_ place, luv?" he'd chortled. "Would have saved you a lot of trouble."

  


I smacked him, and stalked off, followed by a laughing Will and a grumbling Jack, muttering, "Not sure I deserved that."

  


So that was how we wound up back in that other alley, looking down at the peacefully sleeping, rather chunky man and several pigs. 

  


The fact that he was sleeping peacefully changed rather quickly as Jack threw the entire contents of his bucket over the man. A man that woke up, spluttering out curses. "Curse you for breathing, you slack jawed idiot! Mother's love!" his tune changed with a gasp as he recognized his 'attacker'. "Jack! You should know better than to wake a man when he's sleeping! 'S bad luck." 

  


Leaning over to whisper in Will's ear, I hissed, "Just why is he sleeping with pigs, anyway?" Will shrugged.

  


"Ah, fortunately I know how to counter it." Jack grinned. "The man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink. The man who was sleeping drinks it, while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking."

  


Gibbs stood, smiling a little. "Aye, that'll about do it." He began spluttering again as Will loosed his bucket of water on him. "Blast! I'm already awake!"

  


"That was for the smell."

  
  


***

  
  


I shuddered again as we entered the tavern Jack had picked for his 'propositioning'. "This is so _dirty_," I hissed, trying to ignore the pirate who leered as we walked in. "Isn't there someplace _else_ we could do this?"

  


Jack grinned, throwing his arm around my shoulder again. "Afraid of a few pirates, luv?"

  


I shook his arm off. "No." I said coldly. Trust me, I didn't understand it myself. _Why_ was I acting as though I _hated_ Jack? For pete's sake, when I was back home, I had pictures of him up everywhere, and he was on my desktop, and my screen-saver, and...well, it didn't make any sense to me. Maybe I was just trying to assert my independence? That excuse sounded vaguely cop-out-ish in my mind too. "I just thought maybe you could pick a tavern in which someone isn't going to think I'm a....harlot?"

  


Jack threw back his head, and let out a sharp, barking laugh. "Ah, luv! So _that_'s the problem!" When I only glared at him, he patted me on the head like I was a little girl to be patronized, and nodded to Will. "Well, then. You just stand here with Will here, and keep a sharp eye. The eunuch'll protect you."

  


Then he and Gibbs slipped into one of the booths, leaving me and a slightly put-out Will behind. "He called me an eunuch again, didn't he?" Will asked, frowning slightly.

  


"Yeah." I sighed, and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over my chest. I tried desperately to adjust the collar of my dress, wishing it wasn't quite so low. "How come we can't talk with them?" I realized that I sounded like a petulant child, but I think I deserve a mope every now and then.

  


Will simply watched the people around the tavern, doing his job and keeping a sharp eye. "Perhaps it is not a matter that concerns us."

  


"Yeah. Right." Letting out a sigh deep enough to ruffle the stray pieces of hair that had, again, fallen out of its bun, I joined Will in looking around the tavern. Who knows, maybe we'd see something interesting.

  


Well, I wasn't wrong. The inhabitants of the Torgugan bar were pirates, prostitutes, and the occasional bar wench. Will and I stuck out like sore thumbs; Will in that he wore neat clothes, looked clean and wasn't drinking; myself in the fact that I kept trying to pull the collar of my dress up just a _little_ bit higher, and that I wasn't drunkenly throwing myself at everything male in sight. 

  


No, that wasn't true. There was _one_ other woman in the place not throwing herself at everything male, and she didn't appear to be drunk, neither. Short, with shoulder length mousy-brown hair that had been tied back with a faded blue bandana, she was behind the counter, wiping it off with a dirty rag stuck in the belt of her plain, faded green dress. She looked up, brown eyes spotting me looking at her, and nodded curtly. She looked away from me, her eyes passing over Will, and into the booth, passing over Gibbs, about to look away, when her face froze. Trying to figure out where she was looking, I half-turned my head, but the only thing I could figure was that she was looking at Jack, who at that moment, thunked down the large mug he had just taken a swig out of.

  


He noticed me looking at him, and waved, motioning Will and I over. I poked Will, jerked my head in the pirate captain's direction, and we wove our way through the crowd to sit with them. 

  


Will slid into the seat next to Gibbs, and Jack leapt out of his seat, mock-bowing. "Won't you please be seated, luv?"

  


I rolled my eyes, but slid onto the bench. Jack sat back down beside me, then waved at the bar. "Oi! Rum!"

  


A few moments later, the woman I had noticed behind the bar stood beside our table, a tray with four tankards of what I could only assume was ale in one hand. "Well, well." she said, which made Jack look up in surprise. "Jack Sparra'."

  


"Guinevere, luv!" he beamed, sending a typical charming Jack grin up at her.

  


Her face hardened, and she emptied the nearest tankard of rum in his face. He coughed, spluttering, more shocked than anything.

  


Hands on her hips, she snapped, "Never thought ah'd see the slimy likes ah yew after it took yew, wha', 2 days to forget abou' me, eh?" And then she smacked him hard across the face, and stomped away, wiping her hand on the cloth in her belt.

  


There was a stunned silence for a moment, then Will, Gibbs and I all started laughing as Jack muttered, "I may have deserved that."

  
  
  


************

  
  
  


75 reviews, friends! You know you wanna push that little button there! Go on! Give in to the dark side! Review!


	12. Slight Sleeping Arrangement Problems

Okay, here we go. First, the updates will very likely not be coming quite as rapidly as they did this weekend. Seven bloody chapters in three bloody days....I think I've earned a few days rest. Y'know, maybe I can work on my assignments and readings and stuff? Bah. In any case, I _will_ certainly be updating, because there's no bloody way that I'm giving this story up, but whatever the case, I want a couple days rest. Expect lots more chapters next weekend, or something. 

  


Yes. I am tired. Sitting at a computer for three days straight will do that to you.

  


Anyways, yes. I have reached my 50 comments goal, for which I am eternally grateful. However, reviewers, get out your reviewing buttons, cause there's a new goal - 75! Yes, that's right, can you all reach 75? I have faith in you!

  


_Andi Horton: _Aww....Andi, I love you! And I managed to get so many chapters up this fast because this weekend, I had no life. :D

  


_Aiyh-Sa: _*happy rum dance* Whee! You like! Really! Thank-you!!!

  


_Quicksilvermad: _Personally I think it's creepy and really cool too! Glad to hear that you want me to keep updating!

  


_Lyssa2: _Aww....dear! You need a big hug! *huggles* Whoot! I am not a bloody idiot, either? Yay! But really, we are all anxiously awaiting your last chappie (*cries when she realizes that it's the _last_ chapter*) and those Disney type people need to hurry up and release the sequel so we can see Rebecca again! Thank you forever and ever!

  
  


Oh, c'mon, people. I do not own any pirates. Not even one. Not even Pintel or Ragetti, and certainly _not_ Jack. *sobs in a corner* I own nothing!

  
  


*****************

  
  


One does not sleep particularly well when in a pirating town like Tortuga, when the 'leader' of your particular expedition decides to rent only one room in a small inn.

  


"And just where am _I_ supposed to sleep?!" I demanded, hands clenched into fists at my side.

  


Gibbs had settled into a chair in the corner, Will had stretched out on the rug on the floor, and Jack had settled onto the end of the lone bed to remove his boots. I stood at the door, almost shaking with not-so-silent fury. Jack raised an eyebrow, and then looked rather pointedly at the bed. "There's plenty of room, luv."

  


"Oh, no you don't," I pointed at him with a slightly shaking finger. "You are _not_ going to pull something like that over on me!" I gave him the best death glare I could manage. "Why couldn't you just be descent and rent more than _one_ room?!"

  


He smirked. "I thought you didn't like being by yourself in this city? Something about 'not feeling safe'?"

  


My face turned quite red. I _hated_ it when people threw my own words back at me! "Could you not have at least rented _two_ rooms, so we wouldn't have this...._problem_?" I was, suffice to say, not very impressed at the moment.

  


Jack lay back on the bed, hands behind his head. "Doesn't seem like a problem to me, luv."

  


"Why, you..." Will jumped as I stepped over him, and marched directly to the bed, grabbed Jack's hat off his head and smacked him with it.

  


"Now, now." Jack sat back up. "Was that really necessary?"

  


I glared at him. "It sure as bloody hell was." For good measure, I hit with his hat again. "You're a stubborn," another whack, "obstinate," another hit, "utterly despicable," a whack across his shoulder, "_pirate_!"

  


Will looked properly scandalized, Gibbs was watching Jack warily as if to see just what his captain was going to do, and Jack just stared at me for a very long moment.

  


And then he started laughing at me. I just stood there, flabbergasted, as he grabbed the hat from my hand, and plunked it back on his head. Still chortling, he stood, and pulled that foppish, half-bow again. "My deepest apologies, luv. The bed is, of course, yours, and I wouldn't _dream_ of forcing my company upon you." With that, he turned, still laughing, and plunked himself into the chair besides the bed, propped his feet up on the bedpost, leaned the chair back on two legs, and pulled his head over his face.

  


Jaw hanging, I stood there for a very long moment, utterly at a loss. At last, Will propped himself up on one elbow, and said softly, "Perhaps, Heather, you might lie down? I daresay you'll need your sleep if you are to continue dealing with Jack."

  


Letting out a sigh of disgust, I threw myself onto the creaking bed, pulling the flimsy blankets over myself, still clothed. I was _certainly_ not going to undress with them in the room. 

  


Just as my eyes were finally closing to let me sleep, there was the softest of sounds beside me, and my eyes flew open as I felt breath in my ear. Jack's voice whispered, "And next time you try to insult me, luv, try finding something a little worse than 'pirate'." 

  


No, one does not sleep well in those conditions at all.

  
  


***

  
  


Slightly grumpy and not all that well-rested, I followed the three men as Gibbs led the way to a dock with a lineup of rather disreputable gentlemen. And gentlewoman, but of course, I wasn't going to say anything about that now, was I?

  


"Feast your eyes, Captain." Gibbs seemed pretty proud of himself. "All of them, faithful hands before the mast. Every man worth his salt." And then, in a lower voice, "And crazy to boot."

  


"So this is your able-bodied crew?" Will asked.

  


Jack looked slightly less than sure. "You, sailor!"

  


"Cotton, sir." Gibbs supplied.

  


Jack nodded. "Mr. Cotton. "Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?" There was a moment's pause, then Jack demanded, "Mr. Cotton! Answer, man!"

  


"Seems to be a mute, to me." I said calmly, knowing full well why Mr. Cotton wasn't talking.

  


"Aye, she's right." Gibbs nodded. "Poor devil had his tongue cut out, so he trained the parrot to talk for him. No one's yet figured how..."

  


Cotton opened his mouth, proudly displaying his missing tongue, and I'm pleased to note that I think Jack's expression of disgust was even worse than mine. "Mr. Cotton's....parrot." Jack swallowed. "Same question."

  


"Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!" the brightly colored bird squawked. 

  


"Mostly, we figure, that means 'yes'."

  


Jack nodded, as though he was convincing himself. "O' course it does." He turned back to the skeptical pair of Will and I. "Satisfied?"

  


"Well, you've proved them mad." Will answered.

  


From down the dock, another voice called, "And what's the benefit for us?"

  


An involuntary grin spread across my face as I followed Jack down the dock. No more 'the only female allowed on board'!

  


Jack followed the voice, then, hesitantly, reached out to lift the flap of the sailor's hat, revealing a cold woman's face. Blinking, he swept the hat off. "Anamaria!"

  


She smacked him.

  


Will looked down at him, and said calmly, "I suppose you didn't deserve that one either?"

  


Jack groaned. "No, that one I deserved."

  


"You stole my boat!" Anamaria pointed at him. 

  


"You stole her boat?!" I demanded, trying to sound scandalized. It actually wasn't as hard as I would have thought.

  


"Actually...." Jack started, but Anamaria slapped him again. Biting his lip, he continued, hands held up. "...borrowed. Borrowed without permission. But with _every _intent of bringing it back to you."

  


"But did you?" I demanded.

  


"Exactly. But you didn't." Anamaria snapped.

  


"You'll get another one," Jack said, trying to placate. 

  


Anamaria pointed at him sternly. "I will."

  


"A better one." I said firmly.

  


"A better one," Jack agreed, bobbing his head.

  


"That one." Will pointed out over the water at the _Interceptor_.

  


"That one." Jack suddenly realized what he'd agreed to, and turned a pleading gaze on Will. "That one?!" When Will nodded firmly, Jack smiled, weakly. "Aye! That one! What say you?"

  


The entire crew chimed, "Aye!"

  


"No, no, no, no, no, it's frightful bad luck to bring a woman aboard, sir." Gibbs protested. 

  


I jabbed a finger into the older man's chest, drawing him up short. "And there's no bloody way I'm _not_ coming, got it?"

  


Jack groaned as he walked away. "It'd be far worse not to, however."

  
  


***

  
  


I decided that I was not a big fan of sailing. Waves and wind crashed down on our fine ship, and despite the fact that I was wrapped up in some fine British sailor's red coat that had been left behind, I was drenched, cold and quite miserable. 

  


I was crouched on the quarter deck again, back where I was before, and Jack was again beside at the wheel, compass in one hand, looking like a madman. 

  


Will shouted something about islands that no one could find and compasses that didn't work before Gibbs fought his way through the wind and rain to Jack's side. He side-stepped me carefully, then yelled, "We should drop canvas, sir!"

  


"She can hold a bit longer." Jack seemed in no way fazed by the wind, and in fact, was grinning.

  


Struggling to stand despite the pitch of the ship that made me feel quite decidedly sick to my stomach, I yelled, "Why are you in such a blasted good mood?!"

  


He laughed. "We're catching up."

  
  
  



	13. Sea Turtles and Human Hair

*happy rum dance*

  


Wow. I mean, really. Wow. I was gonna ask you all for this chapter to help me get to 100 reviews, but that's pretty darn close. Mostly that's Christé's fault. *thwaps Christé with a nerf sword* So yes, that was amazing. (And Christé is excused, but only because she's really Christine, and she _technically_ is the one I wrote the story for!)

  


So here is the new goal, ladies and gentlemen:

  


125!!!

  


The review button is your friend! Clicky clicky....give me some of those yummy reviews!

  


Okay, then! I have about a billion people to thank, so all of you....I LOVE YOU!!

  


_Christé: _I will save myself the agony of attempting to answer every bloody one of those reviews you wrote....gah! Girl, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you liked my story or something! *huggles* I'm glad you're happy, anyway!

  


_Brem Nakada: _Mwa ha! Am a madwoman! 

  


_Alicia: _I even rock?! Wow! *huggles*

  


_COTG:_ Working on it...

  


_Aiyh-Sa: _Mwa ha...had to help my few female side-kicks, right? And why wouldn't I want to sleep in the same bed as Jack? Well, I admit, it'd be really tempting....but hey, she just met him. _I_ certainly wouldn't be sleeping with someone I knew only from watching them on the silver screen!

  


_Bright Eyes: _Aww..thanks!

  


_Tazzy: _Thanks! And yeah, there is gonna be some romance going on. Mwa ha! However, why Heather snaps at Jack _is_ explained in this chapter. I'm not just pulling this out of thing air - there _is_ a method to my madness!

  


_Elderberry: _I dunno. I don't think I'd sleep all that well with people watching me!

  


_Andi Horton: _As always, I loved your new chapter! And yes. I have no life. I figure that the time all my fellow freshmen spend on TV and bar-hopping, I spend writing!

  


_Oil Pastel: _Hey! I'm glad you like it that much! Yeah, I'll be _writing_ it and suddenly start laughing - my roomie always looks at me very oddly.

  


_Lady Riddle: _Yay! Someone who doesn't hate the way I've been writing the Jack/Heather relationship! Thanks soo much!

  


_Tabby Kitten: _*huggles some more* Aww....thanks so much! Over 75! *happy rum dance*

  


_eva: _More bloody sexy Jack? Coming right up!

  


_Quicksilvermad: _Yeah, I mean, there has to be more to the story than _just_ the scenes - what about nighttime? And BTW - that sounds like a nice twilight zone to be in!

  


_Spontaneousxhumanxcombustion: _Someone else that loves Heather! *huggles* And Will! And Jack! Yeah, I can sympathize with school.....:P

  


_Monitor: _Thanks! That was what I was most proud of - integrating new scenes!

  


I realize that I am now using scenes that are _not_ in the movie. No, I am not just randomly creating these for the heck of it - there _is _a method to my madness.

  


And speaking of madness....if you think I own this....you've got it. (Madness, that is. I don't actually own Pirates of the Caribbean.)

  


Well, enjoy. And review! Arrgh!

  
  


***********

  
  


I awoke the next morning in a hammock. I had quite forgotten that I was on a ship, and so waking up stretched out in a hammock, was slightly startling. To my right was the emptiness of the doorway to the top decks, and to my left was the soft breathing of Will. When I realized where I was, I sighed, letting my head flop back onto the netting of my bed, and stared up at the rough wooden timbers above me. 

  


The _Interceptor_ was a sturdy ship, I decided, swaying a little in my hammock with the ebb of the ocean's tides. The storm must have died out sometime during the night, as the violent swaying that I'd felt the night before were gone.

  


Sighing, I rolled out of the hammock, which turned out to be easier said than done, as I discovered, several moments later, I found myself sitting on the floor with a rather sore rear end. 

  


Wincing, I stood, and limped topside. The sun hadn't quite risen yet, though the eastern edge of the dark sky was tinged with red. There were only a few sailors working on deck, it being the night still, and Jack stood, as always, at the wheel, compass in hand. He didn't appear to have noticed that I was there, and at the moment, I wanted it to stay that way. 

  


Instead of heading up to the quarter-deck to sit beside Jack and the wheel as I had all the time this trip, I turned in the other direction. Clambering up into the prow of the ship, I slipped into the cubby-hole directly behind the figure-head. Tucking my knees under my chin and wrapping my arms around my knees, I set down to do some serious thinking. 

  


What was _wrong_ with me?! Hello, Heather, you're in your favorite movie ever, your favorite hot star is there...and what do you do? You lash out at him! I groaned, resting my forehead on my knees. What was _wrong_ with me?! 

  


"You alright?"

  


The voice made me jump, and I looked up to see the darkly tanned, black eyed pirate woman half-smiling down at me. "AnaMaria!"

  


"Aye. You alright?" she repeated.

  


"Of course," I said quickly, forcing a half-hearted smile.

  


AnaMaria smirked. "You're a lousy liar." Settling herself down on the deck beside me, she nodded once. "What's the problem?"

  


I wrapped my arms tighter around my knees. "Nothing."

  


AnaMaria shook her head. "Like I said, yer a lousy liar." She looked at me for a long moment, until I was about ready to bolt, when she said, "It's Jack, isn't it." It wasn't a question.

  


"Jack? Why would I be thinking about Jack?" I asked quickly - too quickly - but my face (bright red by now, as usual) betrayed me.

  


AnaMaria patted my shoulder, awkwardly. "He ain't gonna bite ya." She paused. "Unless you ask him to. Yet you keep pushing him away."

  


"Yeah," I sighed, frowning. "I don't even know why I do it."

  


The other woman leaned forward, watching me closely. "You're afraid, aren't you?"

  


I looked up sharply, eyes wide. "Afraid? Of _Jack_?!"

  


She shook her head. "Not afraid of _Jack_. Afraid of _losing_ him."

  


I stared at her, wide-eyed, and in a rush, I realized the truth.

  


AnaMaria had just hit the proverbial nail on its head. Wasn't that was I was afraid of? That this, being only a movie, would be over soon, and then what would happen? I'd likely wake up in the theater, say 'Oh, what an odd dream,' and go on with my life. But I was scared that if I let myself get to close to anything - or any_body_ - then I wouldn't be able to just 'go on with my life'. I kept pushing Jack away - because I was scared of what would happen if I let him get too close, and then I lost him.

  


I swallowed, trying to find the right words, but AnaMaria shook her head. "I figured, that's all. Lucky guess."

  


"What do I do?" I asked, biting my lip, and hoping desperately that this older woman knew how to solve my problem.

  


"Well, now, that's up to you, isn't it?" She leaned back against the railing, one leg stuck out ahead of her, the other crossed over it, lazily. "You could be a right good pirate lass, and live for the moment. Of course, then you could be the proper lady and try to reform him into a good gentleman. Or you could just do what you've been doing - push him away. It's up to you."

  


"That doesn't help me at all," I glowered, but the gears were turning. 

  


AnaMaria shrugged, and pointed towards the horizon, where the sun was about to erupt out into the morning sky. "Red sky at morning."

  


"Sailors take warning," I whispered the rest of the old proverb. A glance towards the rear of the ship showed Jack, eyes distracted for a moment from his compass, staring out at the blood red stain across the sky. "Y'know," I murmured, "I _like_ pirates."

  
  


***

  
  


The door swung open with a crash, and both Christine and Elizabeth leapt from their seats at the scarred table. Pintel stood in the doorway, grinning. "Time to go, Poppets."

  


He led them out - not particularily gently - towards Barbossa. The pirate captain reached around Elizabeth's neck to fasten the chain with the medallion on it on her, the girl barely keeping from shuddering. Christine swallowed, and shot a nervous glance at Pintel, who was watching his captain eagerly, but whose hand was still gripping her arm. 

  


Barbossa pushed Elizabeth forward, and the pirates around her reached to push and pull her into the lifeboat, then Barbossa's eyes turned back to Christine. He looked at her for a long moment, then grinned. "Come here, child."

  


Pintel shoved her forward, and she stumbled for a step or two before she managed to catch her footing. Then, carefully, slowly, she stepped forward, keeping very wary eyes on the captain. He reached up to hold her chin in his hand, then nodded once. "Why don't you come along, child? Pirates aren't really all that bad once you get to know them." 

  


And then he'd grinned, and pirates had reached out from all around her to grab her, pulling her towards the edge of the ship, and then, before she could struggle out the curse that was clawing it's way out of her throat, she was dropped into the lifeboat, and beside Elizabeth. Shivering, she sat close to the other girl, who squeezed her hand sympathetically. 

  


Barbossa was laughing when he climbed into the lifeboat, but he soon grew serious as they began to row away from his ship, heading towards the empty and black mouth of the cave.

  
  


***

  
  


"Dead man tell no tales," 

  


The squawking of Mr. Cotton's parrot sent shivers down my spine as I stood, again on the quarter-deck, looking down into the water. There were so many _ships_ down there, some rotten and ancient, some half-submerged and looking like they hadn't been there longer than a year. It was an eery sight, like walking through a graveyard at night.

  


"Puts a chill in the bones, how many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage," Gibbs lamented, his words really not helping the mood at all.

  


Jack's full and undivided attention was focused on his compass. In all the time I had been here, he'd never been that serious, and in fact, I couldn't even remember him looking that serious when I'd watched the movie. Not wanting to distract him, I stepped down, headed instinctively towards Will. 

  


I sat beside Will, who smiled at me briefly, then looked back up at Jack. His dark eyes had been distracted by Mr. Cotton, who was staring at him and his compass curiously, and snapped the compass shut. "Where'd he _get _that compass, anyway?" I asked, though I knew that Gibbs didn't really know.

  


"Not a lot known about Jack Sparrow before he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of the Isla de Muerta . That was before I met him. Back when he was Captain of the Black Pearl." 

  


Will looked up, frowning. "What? He failed to mention that."

  


"Well, he plays things close to the vest now. And a hard learned lesson it was." Gibbs leaned forward, seeing that he had an eager audience in Will and I. "See, three days out on the venture, the first mate comes to him and says everything's an equal share, as should be the location of the treasure, too. So, Jack gives up the bearings. That night there was a mutiny. They marooned Jack on an island and left him to die, but not before he'd gone mad with the heat."

  


"Ah. So that's the reason for the..." Will mimed Jack's rolling movement on ship, and I had to laugh, imitating Will imitating Jack.

  


"Reason's got nothing to do with it. Now Will, Heather, when a man is marooned he is a given a pistol with a single shot. Well, it won't do much good hunting, or to be rescued. But after three weeks of starvin' belly and thirst, that pistol starts to look real friendly. But Jack made it off the island and he still has that one shot. Oh, but he won't use it though, save for one man. His mutinous first mate."

  


"Barbossa." I whispered.

  


"Aye," Gibbs nodded.

  


"How did Jack get off the island?" Will asked, leaning forward again.

  


"Well, I'll tell you. He waded out into the shallows and there he waited three days and three nights, till all manner of sea creature came and acclimatised to his presence. And on the fourth morning, he roped himself a couple of sea turtles, harnessed them together, and made a raft." Gibbs leaned back, grinning a wise grin. 

  


"He roped a couple sea turtles?" Will asked, eyebrows raised.

  


"Aye. Sea turtles."

  


A mischievous grin spreading across my face, I asked, "And what did he use for rope?"

  


_That_ stumped Mr. Gibbs. He frowned, opened his mouth, and then another voice, behind us, answered.

  


"Human hair." We turned to see Jack, hands on his hips. When he saw he had our full attention, he finished. "From my own back." When we still stared at him (though I was biting my tongue to keep from giggling) he ordered, "Let go of the anchor."

  


The crew bellowed back, "Let go of the anchor, sir!"

  


Turning back to Mr. Gibbs, Jack said calmly, "Young Mr. Turner, Miss Heather and I are to go ashore."

  


"Captain!" Gibbs looked around nervously. "What if the worst should happen?"

  


Even as Will and I headed towards the lifeboats, I swallowed at the tone in Jack's voice. "Keep to the code."

  


"Aye, the code." Gibbs muttered.

  


I felt very cold as I climbed into the boat.

  
  
  
  


Mwa ha! You want more?! Review! Review, and your little monkeys, too!


	14. Author Notage

Authors Noteness!

  


Awww....I always wanted to make one of these things!

  


Okay, first thing's first.

  


Why have I been taking so bloody freaking long to update the next chapter?

  


Alright, it's like this. I finally, _finally_, for the first time in three months, got to go home for the weekend. And I don't know about you, but the _last_ thing on my mind when I go home for the weekend is getting another chapter done on my fanfic. _However_....because I am now _home_, I can't use that as an excuse, and instead, I just have to get my lazy butt in gear and _write_. 

  


With that in mind, I shall begin writing chapter 14 momentarily.

  
  


Now that _that'_s dealt with......

  


Thanks are in order!

  


You all amaze me, and though I haven't managed 125 reviews yet, that was a pretty high goal for one chapter, and we got awfully close! Let's see what we can do for the next chapter!

  
  


_Andi Horton: _*happy rum dances with you* Aww....c'mon, that's the best kind of life there is! Love your work!

  


_Oil Pastel: _Oooh....coffee cookies! Updating faster! Wonderful things! I know what you mean though - hearing myself (or someone else) trying to keep from laughing makes me laugh even harder!

  


_Lyssa2: _Ack! Rebecca is coming to taunt me! Fingers flying! (And thank you _so_ much!)

  


_Quicksilvermad: _Pirate days! Yes, I rather surprised me mother when I asked her if she "savvy"-ed something! And yeah, I didn't think there was enough female pirateyness!

  


_AndriJ: _Ack! Cannot leave you with only the monkey! Chapter coming! 

  


_Eva: _Armadillos? Okay, not even gonna _think_ about asking! And here comes some more bloody sexy Jack!

  


_J. Liha: _Thanks! I thought it was cute, but that's just me! :D Anyway, here comes a new chapter, as ordered!

  


_Celeste: _*clicky clicky* I dunno! He _made_ me act like that! Yeah, that's it! Hypnotized me with his bloody sexy eyes, and made me act crazy! (Actually, I have no bloody idea, but I feel like a stupid prat.)

  


_Tabby Kitten: _Wow! You have real faith in my story! Hope I didn't let you down....

  


_Spontaneousxhumanxcombustion: _Aww, you didn't fall off the world any more than I did! No more redundant love thing? Aww....but I loved that so _much_! Shall have to write a whopper of a chappie, to make you do that again!

  


_Lady Riddle: _You know you're not fooling anyone with that cutesie act, right? But thankies!

  


_COTG: _Where _would_ we be without our pirates?!

  


_Brem Nakada: _Whoo....I have a _scary_ brain! But thank you so much!

  


_Monitor: _Okay....shelling some more out.....:D

  


_Spidergurlrox: _Well, if your life depends on it, then I'd _really_ better get my butt in gear! Hee hee....I do the same thing with the rum dance....*happy rum dance*!!!

  


_Completeopposites: _Glad you like it! I try!

  


_JenJen: _But imagine how hairy he would have _had_ to be, to be able to do that! *twitch* That's right, Guenevere _does_ rock!

  


_Christé: _Ladies and gentlemen, meet the oddest quack on the face of the planet. Yes, that's right, the oddball that I wrote this story for. And _six_ more chapters? Um....how soon? :D

  
  


That concludes our Author's Notes for the evening. If you'd like to proceed on, Missie should have a chapter up tonight.

  


Provided she can get her butt in gear. 


	15. Kisses, Concussions, and Curses

Mwa ha-ness!

  


Chapter 14 time! And....look at that! Cause of my author notes, it _looks_ like this is chapter 15! Mwa ha! Making progress when really, I'm not! I shall fool you all into thinking I'm working yet!

  


And while we're on the subject of reviews (where did I get _that_ from?!)....

  


Can you all give me......125?!?!

  


C'mon, I know you can do it!!

  
  


No. Don't even ask. I do _not_ own the bloody movie!

  
  


*************

  
  


We were in a boat. A small, rickety, slightly rotten wooden boat, for that matter. I sat on one of the damp, decaying wooden seats, Jack immediately beside me, and Will sat across from us. Both Jack and Will were pulling on an oar, as I sat still and tried not to be completely useless.

  


Frowning down at a skull in the water, Will asked, "What code is Gibbs to keep to if the worst should happen?"

  


"Pirate's code." I said quickly, before Jack could answer. "I'm mentioned in your pirate code, did you know that?"

  


Jack turned to look at me sideways. "Is that so, luv?" He sounded amused, one eyebrow arching up.

  


"It is indeed." I nodded. After I'd watched the movie the first time, I will admit, I had bordered on what one might call 'obsessed'. Bordered only, though, mind. So I had gone out and taken every book on pirates from the library that I could get my mitts on. And in _one_ of those books, I had come upon a lovely little thing, called the 'Pirate's Code'. And I had committed some of it to memory.

  


Up to that moment, that knowledge had been _completely_ useless, but now I proudly recited code number nine. "'If at any time you meet with a prudent Woman, that Man that offers to meddle with her, without her Consent, shall suffer present Death.'"

  


Will stared at me, mouth slightly open, and Jack burst into laughter. "Assuming, luv, that you are indeed a 'prudent woman'. Otherwise, I think I can 'meddle' without _any_ fear of death."

  


I half-heartedly punched him in the shoulder, but that was only because he deserved it after that comment. (In case you couldn't tell, that's an old-fashioned suggestive comment.) Laughing, he turned to answer Will's original question. "It means, Will, any man that falls behind, is left behind."

  


Will snorted derisively. "No heroes amongst thieves, eh?"

  


Jack smirked. "You know, for having such a bleak outlook on pirates, you're well on your way to becoming one. Sprung a man from jail, commandeered a ship of the Fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew out of Tortuga..." our eyes were all drawn to the stretches of glittering 'swag' on the bottom on the subterranean river we were travelling. "And you're completely obsessed with treasure." 

  


"That's not true!" Will defended himself, quickly. "I'm not obsessed with treasure!"

  


Jack grinned, trowing an arm around my shoulder and squeezing. "Not all treasure is gold and silver, mate."

  


I rolled my eyes, and glanced up at the golden light spilling over the rocks just ahead, hearing the faint strain of voices. "I don't know how to fight them," I whispered, feeling like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on me. We were going to have to deal with pirates, and I had no idea what kind of role I was going to play in all this. 

  


Jack frowned. "Aye, fighting. I'm a better lover than fighter, myself."

  


I laughed, slapping at the hand still draped around my shoulder. "Then, for a lover, Jack, you make a darn good fighter!"

  


I suppose, in a way, that I should have seen it coming. But then, hindsight _is_ 20/20, and so I think that, in that moment, I was totally and completely unprepared. 

  


Because Jack's hand around my shoulder suddenly moved to turn my face towards his, and before I could make any reaction, his lips had rather firmly descended on mine.

  


My mouth was slightly open in shock, which was why it was perfect for Jack's mouth to move almost hungrily over mine, teeth gently biting at my lower lip. His tongue slid between my lips, and brushed over the back of my teeth once before he pulled back, leaving me gasping for breath.

  


And then he leaned forward, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "That, luv, is because you ain't never _seen_ my lovin'." 

  


And then he stepped out of the boat to join Will on the shore, who was staring at Jack, eyes wide, like he'd just grown an extra head. As for myself, I still sat, stunned, in the boat, eyes wide, not _quite_ believing what had just happened. 

  


Had I... was I.... just _kissed_ by Captain Jack Sparrow?! And good heavens...that was some kiss! Not that I had much to compare it with. Believe it or not, and you are more likely to believe this than not, I had never, _never_ been kissed before. And my first kiss - my first kiss _ever_ - had come from Captain Jack Sparrow.

  


I thought I was going to faint.

  


"Heather?" Will hissed, bringing me back to reality with a start. "Did he hurt you?"

  


I blinked, and looked up, realizing for the first time that I was alone in the boat, and that Jack was standing by the rocks, presumably watching the scene below. Will was crouched beside the boat, eyes intense as he watched me warily.

  


"I'm - I'm fine." I said quickly, smiling as I climbed awkwardly out of the boat. "Honest."

  


Will didn't look like he believed me, but he followed me in heading over to where Jack was standing.

  


Below us, in the cave, was a disturbing scene. Pirates everywhere, and in the very center, Barbossa stood, gesturing wildly, two young girls beside him, being held by pirates. "Gentlemen, the time has come!" he yelled to an appreciative audience, that cheered with his every word. "Salvation is nigh! Our torment is near its end!"

  


"Elizabeth," Will whispered. 

  


"And Christine," I added, glaring daggers at the pirates below. 

  


"For ten years we've been tested and tried," Barbossa continued. "And every man-jerk of you here has proved his mettle a hundred times, and a hundred times again!"

  


A loud cheer rose from the assembled privateers.

  


Ragetti looked tragic. "Suffered, I have."

  


"Punished we were. The lot of us. Disproportionate to our crime. Here it is!" With a flourish, he flung off the lid of the stone chest before him, revealing an array of gold coins. The medallion around my neck burned with sudden and momentary heat at the sight of it. "The cursed treasure of Cortés himself. Every last piece that went astray we have returned...save for this." And he pointed to the medallion hanging around Elizabeth's neck.

  


My hand flew to my own neck, unconsciously pressing down on my dress where the medallion lay below, cold again, pressing into my skin. _Had_ they found all the medallions?

  


Will scrambled forward, upsetting some of the treasure that seemed all around us, eager to get to Elizabeth. "Jack!"

  


"Not yet!" Jack pulled him back down again. "We wait for the opportune moment."

  


"When's that? When it's of greatest profit to you?" Will shot back through gritted teeth.

  


"May I ask you something?" Jack half-growled, then went on before Will could answer. "Have I ever given you reason not to trust me? Do us a favor. I know it's difficult for you, but please stay here....and try not to do anything stupid."

  


Meanwhile, Barbossa had continued on, with or without our attention. "And who among us has paid the blood sacrifice owed to the heathen gods?"

  


"Us!" The pirates bellowed back.

  


"And whose blood must yet be paid?"

  


"Hers!"

  


Elizabeth's eyes were wide with barely concealed terror.

  


"You know the first thing I'm goin' to do after the curse is lifted? Eat a whole bushel of apples." Dramatically, he picked up the flint blade knife. "Begun by blood, by blood undone."

  


I should have remembered this. Maybe my remembrance of what was happening the movie was fading with time, but I _should_ have remembered what was going to happen next, as I barely jumped out of the way in time as an oar came down heavily on the head of the man standing next to me. "Will!?" I yelped, barely managing to keep my voice down.

  


"Sorry, Jack, but I'm not going to be your leverage."

  


"What do you think you're _doing_?!" I almost yelled, dropping to my knees to make sure Jack's head wasn't bleeding or something.

  


"Saving Elizabeth." he said firmly, and headed towards the pirates below. 

  


I frowned, and hissed "It's a good thing you have such a hard head," to the still pirate captain, then stood again just in time to see Barbossa make a ragged slice across Elizabeth's palm.

  


"That's it?" She asked, incredulous. 

  


Hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, girl!

  


"Waste not." Barbossa smirked, then dropped the coin into the chest. For a long moment, the pirates seemed to be holding their collective breath, waiting to see if the curse had been lifted as promised.

  


One of the pirates, I believe his name was Koelher, spoke up. "Did it work?"

  


"I don't feel no different," Ragetti frowned.

  


"How do we tell?" Pintel demanded. In response, Barbossa almost lazily drew his pistol, and unceremoniously shot the other pirate.

  


"You're not dead!" Koelher sounded disappointed. 

  


"No." Pintel stared down at his chest. "He _shot_ me!"

  


Twigg, another pirate, burst out, "It didn't work! The curse is still upon us!"

  


Barbossa spun to face Elizabeth again. "You, maid! Your father, what was his name? Was your father William Turner?!"

  


"No!" Elizabeth gasped, eyes wide.

  


"Where's his child?! The child that sailed from England eight years ago! The child in whose veins flows the blood of William Turner!" He backhanded her, sending her tumbling down the small mountain of treasure. "_Where_?!"

  


Bo'Sun spun to face Pintel and Ragetti. "You two! You brought us the wrong person!"

  


"No!" Pintel held up his hands. "She had the medallion, she's the proper age!"

  


"She said her name was Turner, you heard her!" Ragetti agreed. Behind them all, out of their sight but well in mine, Will emerged from the water, and led Elizabeth in with him. _But Christine_, I thought desperately. "Stupid blighters," Ragetti muttered. 

  


Christine let out a small sound, just a little gasp, but it was enough to make Barbossa spin back towards her. "What do you know?!" he demanded, grabbing her arms tightly, and shaking her. "Where's the Turner child?!"

  


She only let out a small sound of fear, and his eyes narrowed. "Is it _you_, then? Are _you_ the Turner child?"

  


"Bit young, isn't she, Captain?" Twigg growled, squinting at her. 

  


"Only one way to find out," Barbossa turned towards where Elizabeth had fallen, looking for the medallion, but she was gone. He paused only a moment, then snarled, "The medallion! She's taken it! Well, after her, you pack of ingrates!"

  


The entire mass of pirates started heading towards our hiding place in the shadows. Beside me, Jack began to stir, then awkwardly push himself up. He groaned, and staggered to his feet, and began heading into the light. Before I could say anything or try to go after him, a hand suddenly clapped over my mouth. 

  


I tried to scream, but the hand muffled that, and Will's voice suddenly hissed in my ear, "We need to get out of here!"

  


He released my mouth, and hauled me to my feet, pulling a shivering, soaked Elizabeth and myself to the row boat. "But Jack!" I protested. "And _Christine_!"

  


"He'll take care of himself. It's _not your concern_." Will growled, and shoved me into the boat. I was on my feet again in an instant.

  


"There is no _way_ I'm going to leave Christine and Jack there..."

  


He turned from pushing the pirate's oars into the water to lift one menacingly. "I will knock you asunder if I have to, miss Heather, but you will _not_ put yourself in that kind of danger!"

  


The look on his face said that he was honestly telling the truth. I might have been touched by his concern for me, had I not been so incredibly ticked off. "Fine." I growled, and thunked down beside Elizabeth, arms crossed over my chest.

  


Dimly, I heard the sound of Jack and the pirates talking as Will pushed the boat off the shore, and began rowing towards the _Interceptor_. 

  


"Puhley, puhlulehvoos, parleli, parsmi, pasley, parle, parle..."

  


"Parley?"

  


"Parley! That's the one! Parley! Parley!"

  


"Parley? Down to the depths whatever muttonhead thought up parley!"

  


"That would be the French."

  
  


*****************

  
  


Oh my......long chapterness that is this chapter!

  


Yes. That made sense. No really, it did. 

  
  


So there you go, all of those of you who wanted romance got it, action-wanters got it, and....people that want more Jack got that too!

  


*hides from flames she just _knows_ she's gonna get for _this_ scene*

  
  
  


Attention, fanfiction readers. This chapter has now concluded, and the author will be moving onto the next one momentarily. If you'd like to click on the review button in the corner, our computers will be happy to help you review to reach the goal of 125 reviews. Have a good evening, and thank you for reading _Caribbean Secrets_. 

  



	16. Apples and Bruises

Mwa ha! You know, I am having entirely _too_ much fun with this story!

  


And in case any of you were wondering (and I'm sure you weren't, but whatever) I'm listening to this mix that has this huge variety of everything from Disney songs to Evanescence, so if the mood of the story suddenly swings from a "Pirate's Life for Me" mood to a "Tourniquet" one, then you'll know why!

  


_Seductive Gypsy: _Awww....thankies!

  


_Sugaricing: _No spelling mistakes? Well, seeing as I _am_ an English major......and really, Jack is the major motivation for actually working on this story!

  


_Lyssa2: _Well, that _does_ make me feel better...you mean that some other poor girl writing a story like this might get flamed? Oh, dear. And really, I think the whole I want you/No I don't thing is _essential_ for the story. Otherwise, it's just not as...dramatic. But really, I am amazing flattered that this story could have earned such a distinction from you. Thank you forever and a day!

  


_Completeopposites: _I'm happy that it makes you laugh! Thank you!

  


_Elderberry: _Weepy good-bye scene? I am having _way_ too much fun with this story to ever leave!

  


_Lady Riddle: _Actually, I think she wishes she _weren't _in that dress - only because itreally _is_ quite uncomfortable. But I'm glad you didn't hate it. More chappies on their way!

  


_Andi Horton: _I should say so! Great minds are brilliant, as are we! And meh, who cares about school? I mean, despite the fact that it is insanely expensive, and hard, and will result in future jobs....meh. Love the new chapter, Andi! Keep it up!

  


_Jehsahka: _Glad you like it! 

  


_Brem Nakada: _I even rendered you speechless?! Wowsers! 

  
  


Now c'mon, folks.....125.....not very far away, now!

  


And just in case this hasn't been made clear enough in the some fourteen proceeding chapters.....I. Do. Not. Own. The. Bloody. Pirates. Happy? 

  
  


**********

  
  


I was _not_ happy. To say the least. I was also feeling rather bitter towards Elizabeth, what with _her_ being rescued and Jack and Christine being left behind. Yeah, so I knew Jack was going to be fine - as Christine had _not_ been in the movie, there was no such assurances for her. I rolled my eyes when she groaned, "Not more _pirates_," and hauled myself over the railing and headed straight for the quarter-deck, and AnaMaria, who stood at the wheel.

  


"Welcome aboard, Miss Elizabeth." Gibbs smiled, making her stop, and stare at him.

  


"Mr. Gibbs...?"

  


And then, as Will climbed aboard, Gibbs directed his attention to the male 'hero'. "Hey, boy! Where be Jack?"

  


"Jack?" Elizabeth's eyes widened, her eyes turning from Gibbs to Will. "Jack _Sparrow?!_"

  


"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow," I said sharply, maybe a little sharper than was needed. "Will left him. He fell behind."

  


Gibbs sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Keep to the code."

  


"Then you're just going to leave him?!" I demanded, not even noticing as Will led Elizabeth away. "Leave Christine and Jack behind?"

  


Gibbs scowled at me. "We have to keep to the _code_."

  


"Fine." I turned away, storming towards the captain's quarters. "Fine! _Keep_ to your bloody code then!"

  


As I slammed the door behind me, I heard AnaMaria shouting, "Weigh anchors! Hoist the sails! Make quickly, now!"

  
  


***

  
  


"How in the _blazes_ did you get off that island?!" 

  


Christine stood, still shivering, arm still held in the crushing grip of Barbossa's thin hand. Her hand was beginning to tingle from the blood being cut off, but she doubted that that was the reason for her slightly swimming head. The man standing there, surrounded by angry pirates, dark eyes twinkling mischievously...I'd never told her that there was anyone _that_ sexy in this movie!

  


The pirate in question grinned. "When you marooned me on that godforsaken spit of land, you forgot one _very_ important thing, mate. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

  


"Ah, well. I won't be making _that_ mistake again." Barbossa waved a hand in the air. "Gents, you all remember Captain Jack Sparrow?" He turned away. "Kill him."

  


Christine's eyes widened as weapons from all over the cave spun to point themselves at the captain, and just as Barbossa began to pull her forward, off the treasure mound, Jack's voice cut over the silence of just-before shooting. "The girl's blood didn't work, did it?"

  


Barbossa's grip on Christine's arm tightened. "Hold your fire!"

  


Around the cave, disappointed pirates lowered their guns.

  


"You know whose blood we need?"

  


Jack nodded once. "I know whose blood ye need."

  
  


***

  
  


Christine was immensely pleased to have her arm out of the old pirate captain's death grip. Instead, she sat in a chair in the corner of Barbossa's cabin, back on the _Black Pearl_, carefully shifting the sleeve of her dress to see if she had bruised. 

  


Jack and Barbossa were also in the cabin, and at that moment, Barbossa laughed at something Jack said. "So you expect to leave me standing on some beach, with nothing but a name, and your word it's the one I need, and watch you sail away, on my ship." 

  


"No." Jack grinned, plucking an apple out of the bowl on the table. "I expect to leave you standing on some beach, with absolutely no name at all, watching me sail away on my ship, and then I'll shout the name back to you. Savvy?"

  


"But that still leaves us the problem of me standing on some beach with naught but a name, and your word that it's the one I need."

  


"Of the two of us, I am the only one who hasn't committed mutiny, therefore my word is the one we'll be trusting. Although, I suppose I should be thanking you, because in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me to die, I would have an equal share in that curse, same as you." Jack calmly bit into the apple. "Funny ol' world, inn't?" Grinning, he offered the other the apple.

  


The door suddenly swung open, the sunlight blocked by the massive form of Bo'Sun. "Captain, we're coming up on the _Interceptor_."

  


Grinning, Barbossa headed topside, with a slightly less cocky Jack and a desperate-to-get-away Christine following. 

  


Jack suddenly dashed ahead of the captain, and grabbed a rope, swinging himself around so that he effectively blocked the other man's view of the other ship. "I'm having a thought here, Barbossa. What say we run up a flag of truce? I scurry over to the Interceptor, and I negotiate the return of your medallion, aye? What say you to that?" 

  


Barbossa smiled like one would to a little child. "Now you see, Jack , that's exactly the attitude that lost you the Pearl . People are easy to search when they're dead." Turning to Bo'Sun, he ordered, "Lock him in the brig." And lazily, he tossed Jack's apple over his shoulder. 

  


Spotting Christine, the captain's hand found it's way to it's usual position gripping her arm, and as she winced, he hissed, "Now, Miss Swann...or is it Turner, perhaps, after all? I do believe you'll make a nice bargaining chip up here, so you'll just be staying put."

  


Warily, she looked out over the water at the other ship. _Heather, you'd _better_ have a _bloody_ good explanation for me when all this is done_.

  
  


*************

  
  


Mwa ha! C'mon, now, only a few more until 125! You can do it! Just a little clickity-clicking!

  



	17. Fancy that! Marooned

Ladies and gentlemen......

  


We have reached 125 review!

  


And you know what that means. 

  


150!!!!

  


I know you can do it. I have great faith in you!

  
  


_Huntress16: _Yes, Jack _is _a sly dog!

  


_Ellina: _*eyes wide from being tackle-glomped* And we're not all Mary-Sues! *dances, then snatches up as many Jack and medallion plushies as possible!*

  


_COTG: _Why, thank you! I'm flattered!__

  


_Lyssa2: _Hooray! Someone that doesn't think I'm insane for _having_ them banter! *huggles*

  


_Lady Riddle: _The saddest thing is, I've only seen this movie _once_.....though I would happily just live in the theater and watch it over and over again! Marooned? Mwa ha....wait and see!

  


_The-ringspell: _Aww! Don't _cry_! *hands you a tissue* I'm sorry, really, I'll try to listen to my conscience from now on, and will update. Glad you like it that much, by the way! I too, am Canadian. From the good ol' province of On-tari-ari-o. Go Canuckleheads!

  


_Spidergurlroxs: _Gack! I have to make the chapters _longer_?! *groans* I _do_ have a photographic memory, so I've been reciting the movie ever since I saw it, but the exactness of my writing is helped by having the script. :) Thank you _very_ much for your faith in my writing skills....as soon as I finish this story, I might actually get back to working on my Harry Potter fiction....I have two on the go: Pillars Four and Of Infinite Possibilities. 

  


_Andi Horton: _I know, chapter waiting is the worst part of reading.....*hint hint nudge nudge wink wink* But seriously, I'm glad you like it. Yours is getting better and better too!

  


_Completeopposites: _Aww...thanks!

  


_Kayt Sparrow: _Wow, really? People keep saying that, but I can't believe it! *huggles* You're the best!

  


_Oil Pastel: _Curse me? NOOOOOO!!! *hides* Okay.....am updating! No cursing, _please_?

  


_Valor: _Thanks! Hopefully I won't give this up...... 

  


_Mark's girl: _*Huggles* My partner in crime and conspirator in all things Orlie and Johnny! And besides, I got my "cliff-hanger" tactics from the Wachowski brothers!

  


_Spontaneousxhumanxcombustion: _I know, I'm bloody _writing_ the story, and I sometimes find myself wondering if everyone's going to be alright! And it _still_ wasn't love-worthy yet? Darn, have to make this chapter as redundantly love-worthy as possible!

  
  


And since there seems to be a growing fanclub for this sort of thing.....

  


*happy rum dance*!

  
  


Okay, let's count the things I _don't _own here: the Evanescence music, with which I am driving my roommate insane; Jack; Will; Christine; _Pirates of the Caribbean_; etc. etc. etc. What _do_ I own? Well....Heather. And the plot. Whoot!

  
  


***********

  
  


The scurry and fervor outside on the deck was enough to make me curious, and I abandoned my self-imposed isolation in the captain's quarters to look outside. Gibbs, at that moment, was shouting, "Hands aloft to loose t'gallants! With this wind, she'll carry every sail we've got!"

  


"What's happening?" Elizabeth cried, winding her way through the running crew. 

  


I didn't need to hear Gibbs' response to know that we were in considerable trouble. Clumping on the wooden deck in my stiff, buckled shoes, I raced back to the quarter-deck of the ship, where AnaMaria stood at the wheel. The _Black Pearl_, in all it's ragged, tattered glory was only perhaps a shot and a half's length away. 

  


"The _Black Pearl_, she's gaining on us." AnaMaria muttered. 

  


"This is the fastest ship in the Caribbean!" Elizabeth protested.

  


"Well, when they've caught us, you go ahead and tell them that!" I snapped over my shoulder. 

  


There was silence from the other girl for a moment, then she asked, "We're shallow on the draft, right?"

  


"Aye." AnaMaria nodded.

  


"Well, then, can't we lose them amongst those shoals?"

  


A trace of hope flickered on Gibbs face. "We don't have to outrun them long; just long enough."

  


"Lighten the ship, stem to stern!" AnaMaria ordered.

  


"Anything that we can afford to lose - see that it's lost!" Gibbs ordered, rushing to help with the tossing of barrels and chests.

  


At my feet, neatly set in a coil of rope, sat Jack's rum bottle, still a quarter full. Shrugging, I bent, picked it up, and chucked it as hard as I could into the waves. _Just contributing to the effort_, I thought with a wry grin.

  
  


***

  
  


Will emerged from below-deck at about the same time as I turned to stop one the pirates that was loosening a cannon. "We're going to need that," he informed him, and I nodded to him once, before spotting the oars floating below in the water.

  


"It was a good plan up 'til now," I admitted. 

  


"Gibbs! We have to make a stand!" Will marched forward, determined. "We must fight! Load the guns!"

  


"With _what_?" AnaMaria demanded.

  


"Anything. Everything! Anything we have left!"

  


"Load the guns! Take shot and langrage! Nails and cut glass! With a will!" He took an anxious swig from his canteen before one of the pirates stuffing the cannon with silverware snatched it from his hand to add to the fodder. "The Pearl is going to luff up on our port quarter. She'll rake us without ever presenting a target!" 

  


"Lower the anchor on the right side!" Elizabeth suddenly surged forward. 

  


"The _starboard_ side!" I supplied, rolling my eyes.

  


"It certainly has the element of surprise," Will mused.

  


"You're daft, lady!" AnaMaria yelled. "You _all_ are!"

  


"Daft like _Jack_!" Gibbs crowed. "Lower the starboard anchor! Do it ye dogs, or it's you we'll load into the cannons!" 

  


With a slight shudder, the anchor was dropped into the ocean.

  


"Let go!" Elizabeth yelled at AnaMaria, who just released the wheel, stepping back. As the anchor caught, the wheel spun, and the entire ship swung hard. 

  


As we came alongside with the tattered ship, now proudly displaying the Jolly Roger, Will yelled, "Keep us steady now! Now!"

  


As Barbossa, across the water, bellowed, "Fire!" the same order was erupting out of my own mouth.

  


The world erupted in a cacophony as cannon fire exploded out, and I swore that, despite the sound, I could hear the yelp of Jack's voice, "Stop blowing holes in my ship!"

  


"We could use a few more ideas, lass," Gibbs growled, trying to find more shot for the cannons.

  


"Your turn," Elizabeth shot back, and I was fairly certain that Gibbs then turned to glare at me. 

  


"We need us a devil's dowry."

  


AnaMaria whipped out a pistol, and aimed it directly at Elizabeth, whose eyes widened in terror. "We'll give them her."

  


"She's not what they're after!" I snapped, as Elizabeth's hands strayed to her neck. 

  


"The medallion!" 

  


Will, playing the hero as always, raced below decks to search for it. My fingers instinctively searched for the medallion around my own neck, then I moved forward. Maybe...if I _warned_ him...could I maybe prevent Will from being nearly drowned? It was _possible_, after all, wasn't it?

  


I had only made two steps when a shot knocked out the mast, which fell with a resounding crash reminiscent of falling trees, falling directly across the hatch to the hold, cutting me off from my preemptive rescue attempts. One of the booms came down with the mast, and before I had realized what was happening, I was struck with a rather large - and decidedly heavy - hunk of wood, and was thrown to the deck, boom on top of me, and gasping for the breath that had been knocked out of me.

  


Only feet away, I could see Will's fingers emerging through the grill as he shouted, "Hey! Hey! Below!" but I couldn't quite seem to catch my breath to alert someone to his location.

  


"Jack!" Gibbs shouted suddenly, and I had never been so relieved to hear someone's voice when aforementioned pirate answered. 

  


"Bloody empty." Then, a moment later, "That's not very nice. Where's the medallion?"

  


"Wretch!" Elizabeth snarled. 

  


"Ah, where's dear William?"

  


"Will...." There was hesitation for a moment, then Elizabeth barrelled past, not seeing me at all. "Will!"

  


"Elizabeth!"

  


"Jack!" I finally grabbed enough breath to shout his name at his back.

  


He half-turned, face twisted into a comically confused look, eyes scanning for the source of the voice. "_Jack_!" I repeated, and _this_ time, he noticed me.

  


"Luv!" He dropped to a crouch, and pulled the boom off me. "You alright?"

  


"Monkey!" I yelped, not answering his question at all, but the bloody thing had run _right_ past, clutching the gold pirate's medallion in its skinny fingers. Jack leapt up and chased the miserable creature.

  


Meanwhile, Elizabeth was still struggling with the grate. I was about to crawl over to see if I could help her any when rough hands grabbed me under the arms and hauled my roughly to my feet. "Elizabeth!" I yelped, trying to warn her, but I was being pulled away, even as others snatched her away as well. 

  


I tried to fight them off. Really. I did try. I tried kicking, and biting, and smacking, but I think, perhaps, that being un-dead has the decided advantage of dulling all pain, and so, despite some annoyed looks, my fighting gained me nothing at all. In fact, as the grinning pirates dragged me onto the deck of the _Black Pearl_, I was roughly thrown against their mast in time to hear Barbossa bellow, "Gents, our hope is restored!" and see the pirates still on the smaller ship light the match to the powder. 

  


"_Will!_" Elizabeth screamed, but I decided that more proactive measures were in order. Stomping on the toes of the pirates holding me, I broke away. Racing towards the pirate captain, I wasn't sure just exactly _what_ I was intending to do, but I had to stop that man somehow! Maybe if I had a weapon of some sort.....but, as though he knew what I had planned, Barbossa reached forward, and harshly grabbed the arm of someone who had been trying hard to avoid him. 

  


Yanking his human shield in front of him, Barbossa actually laughed as I drew myself to a sharp halt. "_Christine?!_" I yelped, hands clenching into fists as the sight of my best friend held by the captain, clad in a dress that looked for all the world to be bloodstained. "What have you _done_ to her?!" I screamed at him, not even fighting when pirates grabbed my arms and pulled me back again.

  


"Friend of yours, hellcat?" He smirked, then his smirk vanished as he grabbed a fistful of Christine's pale hair, making her cry out. "Then _behave_, if you don't want her hurt."

  


Christine's eyes pleaded for help as I was dragged away, but I could only watch helpless as I was pushed onto a barrel, pirate hands holding me there. _I'm sorry_, I mouthed, wincing as even that little action earned a backhand from one of the pirates. Jack stood only feet away from me, and the look on his face seemed to suggest he was debating whether to just stand there, or run that pirate through. 

  


But everything, _everything_ changed when the _Interceptor_ exploded. There was silence for a moment, in the wake of the explosion, then Elizabeth screamed, "You've got to stop it!" She raced towards the captain, sufficiently surprising him into releasing Christine's hair. "Stop it!"

  


"Welcome back, Miss." He smiled in a dangerous way. "You took advantage of our hospitality last time. It holds fair now that you return the favour." And with a push, he shoved her towards the crew.

  


"Elizabeth!" Christine gasped, reaching towards her, when everyone froze at the sound of a new voice.

  


"Barbossa!"

  


Elizabeth looked up, relief washing over her features. "Will."

  


"She goes free." Will ordered, one hand on the ropes beside him, the other on a pistol that was aimed at Barbossa's heart.

  


Barbossa laughed, and tugged Christine back as a shield. "What's in your head, boy?"

  


I bit my lip, watching Will carefully. Surely, he wouldn't shoot an innocent girl just to save Elizabeth? He swallowed, assessing the situation, then frowned. "She goes free!"

  


Barbossa smiled. "You've only got one shot, and we can't die."

  


My head snapped back to look at Jack as he implored, "Don't do anything stupid."

  


"You can't..." Will paused, then lifted his chin, turning the pistol so it's butt rested under his jawbone. "I can."

  


Jack groaned. "Like that."

  


Barbossa looked incredulous. "Who _are_ you?" He asked in disbelief.

  


Jack hurried towards his mutinous first mate, distracting him. "No one. He's no one. A distant cousin of my aunt's nephew...twice removed. Loving singing voice, though." Dropping his voice to a whisper, he added, conspiratorially, "Eunuch."

  


Ignoring Jack's placations to _not_ talk, and the cutting motion I was making with my finger across my throat, Will proudly answered, "My name is Will Turner . My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner. His blood runs in my veins."

  


"He's a spitting image of ol' Bootstrap Bill come back to haunt us!" Ragetti whispered.

  


"On my word do, as I say, or I'll pull this trigger and be lost to Davy Jones' Locker." Will threatened. 

  


Barbossa hesitated. "Name your terms, Mr. Turner."

  


"Elizabeth goes free."

  


One track mind, anyone?

  


"Yes, we know that one." Barbossa looked exasperated. "Anything else?"

  


Jack was desperately pointing at himself, so Will added, "And the crew, the crew are not to be harmed."

  


I waved at the man, trying to get his attention, letting out little coughs, and pointing very deliberately at myself and Christine. A pirate noticed, and quite firmly smacked me to stop that, but fortunately not Will before noticed. "And Heather...and the other lass. They aren't to be harmed, either."

  


Barbossa's eyes flitted over to where the pirates had me sitting, and smirked. "The hellcat, too? Agreed."

  


***

  


It took surprisingly little time to find myself standing near the railing, staring at the small island that was getting closer and closer. My hands had been tied with a short length of rope, and two pirates still stood beside me to watch that I didn't try anything rash, though I noted with some satisfaction that they were keeping their toes away from me.

  


The plank was set up, and as we drew up besides the island, Elizabeth was pushed up onto the narrow strip of wood. "Go on! Walk the plank!" One of the pirates laughed.

  


Will fought against the pirates holding him back. "Barbossa, you lying bastard! You swore she'd go free!" 

  


"Don't dare impugn me honour, boy. I agreed she'd go free - it was you who failed to specify when or where." He grinned as Will was gagged with a ragged piece of sail. With his spare hand, he stroked Christine's hair, who shuddered. "Though it does seem a shame to be losing something so fine, don't it, lads?" 

  


"Aye!" His crew agreed, and Elizabeth half turned, hoping.

  


"So I'll be having that dress back before you go."

  


Laughter rang out as Elizabeth, cheeks flaming red, ripped the dress off as fiercely as she could manage. "It goes with your black heart," she snarled, and threw it at him, standing only him her shift and pantalets. 

  


Barbossa pressed the fabric to his cheek. "Ooh...it's still warm."

  


"Off you go!" The pirates resumed to their taunting Elizabeth down the plank. "Come on!"

  


"Too long!" Bo'Sun decided, and shook the plank, sending Elizabeth dropping off it with a cry. 

  


"Bastard!" I screamed at the massive pirate, stomping on the toes of those holding me again. 

  


"Ah, hellcat. You're next." Barbossa grinned, and I snarled, snapping at the fingers of the pirates as they pushed me towards the plank.

  


"I really had rather hoped we were past all this," Jack said, as he stood beside me, both of waiting to be thrown over. 

  


"Jack . Jack! Did ya not notice? That be the same little island that we made you Governor of, on our last little trip." Barbossa grinned.

  


"I did notice," Jack did not sound impressed.

  


Barbossa smiled. "Perhaps, you'll be able to conjure up another miraculous escape. But I doubt it." He drew his sword, aiming it at Jack's throat, as the pirates around me decided that I'd stalled long enough, and pushed me up the step onto the plank. "Off you both go. You've got company to entertain this time, Jack."

  


"Last time, you left me with a pistol with one shot." Jack was trying to stall, but then, so was I, as pirate blades were now pushing me nearer the edge. 

  


"By the powers, you're right." Barbossa mocked surprise, then looked around. "Where be Jack's pistol? Bring it forward!"

  


The small bundle of belongings was brought forward, and Jack held up a finger. "Seeing as there's three of us, a gentleman would give us a pair of pistols, and some shot, besides."

  


"It'll be one pistol as before, and you can be the gentleman, and shoot one of the ladies, and enjoy the others company as you starve to death." 

  


I took one too many steps backwards, and my foot met with nothing but air. Gasping, I toppled backwards, hitting the clear, warm water. A moment later, Jack's pistol broke the waves beside me, followed in short order by Jack himself. 

  


I kicked against the dead weight of my dress, my head breaking the top of the water. Within moments, my feet touched bottom, and I dragged myself onto the white sand. 

  


Well, fancy that.

  


I was marooned.

  


***********

  


*winces, rubs fingers* Well, I hope you're all happy. That is the longest chapter yet! Yes, the marooned chapter comes next, and all that comes with it. :D

  


Well, I hope _that _earned your 150 reviews. *puppy eyes* Please?

  



	18. I Like Being Marooned

Mwa ha! We have reached the infamous marooned chapter! I say 'infamous', because 

  


1) in _my _mind it's already infamous;

  


2) from the sounds of it, people have been looking forward to this chapter;

  


3) any other fanfic I've read with the marooned scene in it has been bloody hilarious (Whoo, hoo! Lyssa!);

  


And...4) It's the bloody funniest scene in the movie!

  


With that in mind.....enjoy! 

  


_Quicksilvermad: _Yes, cliffhangers _are_ good literary devices! Even if they _do_ make us want to strangle the author! Thanks!__

  


_Huntress16: _Yeppers. Hellcat. It was a derogatory term for someone with far too much attitude for their own good. :) Sounds accurate.

  


_Tabby Kitten: _Aww...thanks. You even have faith in me? *happy rum dance* Whee! *huggles*

  
  


Oh.....and.....honestly. I do _not_ own the bloody freaking movie, already!

  
  


***********

  
  


"That's the _second_ time I've had to watch that man sailing away with my ship."

  


I coughed up seawater, and stumbled onto the beach in my soaked and altogether too heavy dress. Jack strode onto the sand, pulling off the ropes around his wrists. I held my bound wrists forward in a silent plea, and he paused, turning back to fumble with the knot.

  


"But you were marooned on this island before, weren't you?" Elizabeth put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "So we can escape in the same way you did then."

  


Jack glanced up from the knot to fix dark khol-lined eyes at the other girl. "To what point and purpose, young missy? The _Black Pearl_ is _gone_, and unless you have a rudder and a lot of sails hidden in that bodice, unlikely, young Mr. Turner will be dead long before you can reach him." He gave the knot one final yank, and the ropes finally fell away.

  


"Thanks," I murmured, then jumped as he set a hand on my arm.

  


"Are you alright, luv?" I looked up, slowly, to see his brows furrowed, as he looked at me carefully. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

  


"No," I lied, hoping the multiple slaps across the face weren't going to bruise. Then I forced a smile. "Is there any food, on this island?"

  


"Even better," he grinned, and I followed as he set off into the trees.

  


Elizabeth, unfortunately, followed too. "But you're Captain Jack Sparrow! You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company. You sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot. Are you the pirate I've read about, or _not_? How did you escape last time?"

  


"Last time....I was here for a grand total of three days. Last time..." he bent, and opened a door under the sand. Hopping down the steps, he called back, "The rum runners used this island as a cache. Came by, and I was able to barter a passage off. From the looks of things, they've long been out of business. Probably have your bloody friend Norrington to thank for that."

  


I leaned over, peeking down into the hole, and I had to grin as Jack emerged, and waggled three bottles of rum in the air. "Jack, are you suggesting that we all get drunk?"

  


He smirked. "Can't think of a way I'd rather spend the time with you lovely ladies."

  


"I could," I smirked, and laughed at the way _that_ raised Jack's eyebrows.

  


"Oh, _really_?" He grinned, and this was just really starting to get fun when Elizabeth, again, interrupted in a huff.

  


"So that's it then? That's the secret grand adventure of the infamous Jack Sparrow ? You spent three days lying on a beach, drinking rum?!"

  


"Welcome to the Caribbean, luv." He sashayed his hips in an interesting variation of a tango, and handed her one of the bottles of rum.

  


"What, and I don't get properly welcomed?" 

  


I had to ask it. Elizabeth gave me a scandalised look, and marched off to the beach. Jack, eyebrows encroaching on his forehead again, smirked. "What, finally warming up to me?"

  


I shrugged. "I'm marooned with you, aren't I?"

  


He threw back his head and laughed, gold teeth flashing. "That, luv, you are." Then he took a step towards me, bowed, and took my hand. Kissing the back of it, he looked up to grin. "Welcome to the Caribbean, luv."

  


"Much better," Grabbing a bottle of rum, I headed after Elizabeth to the beach, Jack following, humming a slightly off-key rendition of "A Pirate's Life For Me".

  
  


***

  
  


Let me warn you. I had never, _never_, in my 19 years, drunk anything alcoholic. And now here I was, marooned on a tiny island with a grouchy female pining for her lost love, a bloody sexy pirate captain, and what seemed at the moment to be a limitless supply of rum.

  


I'd say that those were _ideal_ drinking conditions.

  


A bonfire was burning on the beach, throwing cheery red light onto the pristine sand, we had no food, but plenty of rum, and I had lost pretty near _all _my inhibitions. In fact, at that moment, I was giggling - _me_, _giggling_?! - as Jack, Elizabeth, and I danced around the bonfire. I had shed the dress and corset, deciding that they were much too uncomfortable, much to Elizabeth's horror, but I assured her that I was still perfectly descent because I was still wearing all the blasted underclothes. Jack agreed with me. I think she would have tried to take the dress back from me, had I not pointed out that it was now bloodstained, ripped, covered with grim and sea-salt, and beyond any repair or use of decency. So I tossed it on the fire, grabbed Jack's hands, and spun around the fire, laughing.

  


"We're devils, and black sheep, and really bad eggs! Drink up me 'earties, yo, ho! Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate's life for me!"

  


"I love this song!" I yelled, stumbling, and grabbing Jack's arm to keep my balance, unsteady as it was. "We pillage, and plunder, and don't give a hoot!" 

  


"Really bad eggs! Woo." Jack laughed, and sank to the beach. Discovering my support gone, I managed a few steps of a half-ways version of what I had titled 'Jack's Happy Rum Dance' before I got my feet tangled up in the under-skirts, and tripped again, this time nearly collapsing onto Jack's lap. I rectified that problem immediately, and crawled the rest of the way onto his lap, resting my head on his chest. Seeming not to find this a problem, the hand without the rum bottle strayed up to stroke my hair as he continued, "When I get the _Pearl_ back, I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew, and we'll sing it all the time!"

  


Sounding out of breath, Elizabeth sat beside him. "And you'll be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main."

  


"No," I murmured, enjoying my snuggle against Jack. "He'll be the best bloody fearsome pirate in the whole wi' wo'ld!" 

  


"That's right, luv." He nodded, patting my head. "Wherever we want to go, we'll go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel, and a hull, and a deck, and sails. That's what a ship needs, but what a ship is…what the _Black Pearl _really is…is freedom."

  


"Jack, it must really be terrible for you to be trapped on this island." Elizabeth tried to sound sympathetic, but to my ears, she failed miserably.

  


"Oh, yes." Jack shifted positions, and I let out a little sound of complaint, until I discovered that he was moving so he could slide an arm around my waist. "But the company is _infinitely_ better this time, I think."

  


"It'd better be, darn it." I muttered, and reached up to twirl the left side of his mustache with my fingers. 

  


"And the..." he paused, then grinned. "The _scenery_ has definitely improved." 

  


In the movie, I knew that this cued Elizabeth's silly little 'I don't think I've had enough rum for that kind of talk,' but right now, I somehow doubted she planned on playing that particular line. _I_, however...

  


"Captain Sparrow," I sat up a little, leaning back and running a hand through my hair, which had become decidedly tangled, having fallen out of its bun somewhere between the rum chest and Isle de Meutre. "Are you _quite_ sure that you've gotten enough rum into me to be talking like that?"

  


Elizabeth gasped, and shot a furious glare at Jack. "Now look what you're doing, Jack! You've got the girl drunk! She's not acting herself!"

  


"Now see here," I pointed at her, before pausing to take another swig out of my nearing empty bottle. "I am _not_ a girl, I am an adult, and can't be much younger than _you_. Second, if I want to be drunk and act like a bloody pirate, I think I should be allowed to do that. Third," I paused to empty out the bottle, holding out my tongue to catch the last few drops. "Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken."

  


Jack grinned. "See? She's not broken." 

  


"Jack, don't you _dare_ try to take advantage of her!" Somehow, none of her anger seemed to be focussed at me. She seemed much more content to aim all her condemnation at Jack, who had nothing to do with it, really, besides providing the rum, and then being an exceedingly attractive target.

  


"Never." He said firmly, and I nodded, returning to my snuggle against his chest. 

  


Elizabeth let out a sound of disgust, and pushed herself off the sand, retreating towards the trees, leaving her still almost full bottle of rum lying on the sand. "Mm, rum." I grinned, and leaned forward to grab it, almost pitching headfirst into the sand in the process.

  


Jack caught me, laughing. "Maybe you _have_ had a little much, luv. Have you not drunk before?"

  


"Nope." I said cheerfully, fighting with the cork Elizabeth had somehow managed to stuff back into the mouth of the bottle. "And y'know, it tastes a _lot_ better than I thought it would."

  


Jack laughed. "And I assume that that's good thing, luv?"

  


I paused. "Not really. Now I'm gonna want to drink it again." I frowned. "And then it could be a bad thing."

  


"Right," he laughed, as I turned to gripping the cork between my back teeth, tugging on it. "Would you like a hand, luv?"

  


"Oh, would you?" I held the bottle forward, and he reached an arm around me in order to have both hands available for tugging on the stubborn cork. It was rather comforting, snuggled in his arms as he attempted to open a bottle of rum for me. What a gentleman! 

  


"'Ere we...whoops." The cork finally popped out, but with such force that the precious liquid splashed over his hands. 

  


"Aww..." I pouted, taking the bottle, and looking forlornly at the lowered level. "It spilled." 

  


"Is alright, luv. There's plenty where that came from."

  


"Seems like an awful waste," I frowned, then grinned. Grabbing his cupped hand, I lifted it to my face, and licked it.

  


"What're you doing now, luv?" Jack's eyes were wide, as though the climbing in his lap and snuggling into him were _one_ thing, but licking rum off his hand was quite another. 

  


"Can't waste it," I said practically, licking off his thumb. "You taste like the ocean."

  


"Do I now?" He still sounded mildly startled. 

  


"Mm-hmm." Deciding that I had salvaged as much as I could from his knuckles, I leaned back against his chest, listening to his heart as his chest rose and fell with his breathing. "I think...I think I'm drunk, Jack."

  


He laughed, his chest rumbling. "I think you're right, luv."

  


"Mm." I lifted my head again, tilting my head to one side to look at him. "Did you know that you're the first man who's ever paid any attention to me, Jack?"

  


"Is that so?" He grinned, and suddenly laid back in the sand, hands behind his head. 

  


"Mm-hmm." I lay down too, chin on my hands, hands on his chest. "Why?"

  


"Why what?" He lifted his head, looking surprised. 

  


I hesitated, then laughed. "I forget. Boy, I _am_ drunk!" Squirming forward, I leaned down, kissed his chin, then rolled off his chest onto the sand. "I'm sleepy."

  


"Side effect." His arm wrapped back around me, and I snuggled into his side, reaching up to curl my fingers in his shirt. "You alright, luv?" 

  


"Never better," I murmured, and for the first time in my life, promptly passed out.

  
  


***

  
  


My head hurt. Frowning, I opened my mouth, working my tongue around, trying to rid it of the dry my-mouth's-stuffed-with-cotton-balls feeling. "Yuck," I murmured, wincing when I tried to open my eyes. "Turn out the _light_," I muttered, snuggling my head deeper into my pillow....wait a minute. That was _not _a pillow.

  


Cracking open my eyes again, I found myself staring at a white shirt. A white shirt that was, currently, being worn by a sleeping body. 

  


"Oh dear," I whispered, tilting my head back to see just _whose_ torso I was pressed into. Ah, Jack's. Well, that was alright, then. Yawning, I snuggled back into my comfortable position, fully determined to sleep what appeared to be my first hang-over off.

  


However, my 'pillow' suddenly started moving, and I whimpered as the arm wrapped around my waist was moved, and Jack sat up. Opening one eye, I looked up at him, frowning. "You were comfortable."

  


He blinked. "Something's burning."

  


Turning around, a horrified expression crossed his face, and he scrambled to his feet, leaving me with absolutely _no_ excuse to remain lying on the sand, so I, too, sat up. This end of the island appeared to be on fire, and Elizabeth, throwing a barrel on the flames, seemed only to be making the matter worse. 

  


"No! Not good! Stop! Not good! What are you doing? You burned all the food, the shade, the rum!"

  


"You burned all the _rum_?" I yelped, wincing as that hurt my already pounding head, and staggered to my feet.

  


"Yes, the rum is gone." Elizabeth seemed far too calm, considering that the rum was now all on fire.

  


"Why is the rum gone?" Jack sounded like he was in shock.

  


"One, because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two, you got that poor girl _completely_ drunk! Three, that signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me, do you really think that there is even the slightest chance that they won't see it?" 

  


"But _why_ is all the rum gone?" Jack protested. 

  


Elizabeth sat down firmly on the beach, staring out at the horizon. "Just wait, Captain Sparrow. You give it one hour, maybe two, keep a weather eye out, and then you will see white sails on that horizon."

  


Jack waved his hands in the air for a moment, then yanked the pistol out of his belt. He pointed it at Elizabeth's back for a moment, before shaking his head and stuffing it back in its place. Then he spun, and, to my surprise, grabbed my arm. Dragging me along with him, he growled, "Let's move, luv."

  


"Jack?" I asked in surprise, stumbling to keep up with his longer strides. "Where are we going?"

  


"Away from _her_ corrupting influence, that's where!" Grumbling, he muttered, "Maybe _one_ bottle missed her."

  


"Was that...the _only_ cache on the island?" I asked, hurrying forward a few steps so I could grab a hold of his arm, trying to steady my still awkward footsteps. 

  


"Yes." He did _not_ sound happy. "'Must've been terrible for you to be trapped here, Jack. Must have been terrible for you.'" He imitated Elizabeth, swinging his free hand in the air. "Well, it bloody is _now_!"

  


Wincing, I hated to break into his tirade, but I poked him awkwardly in the ribs, and pointed out into the crystal aqua waters. "Jack....there's the _Dauntless_."

  


He sighed, finally drawing us to a halt. "There'll be no living with her after this." 

  
  


***********

  
  


Mwa ha! Well, was that infamous enough? Review!!!!! Flame me if you must, but review, dagnabbit!

  
  


150!!

  
  
  
  



	19. No Bloody Way!

I do believe, ladies and gentlemen, yes, wait, Yes!!!

  


WE HAVE REACHED 150 REVIEWS!!!!!

  


*happy rum dances around the room*

  


You, all of you, each and every one of you, are my heroes! *huggles everyone, then proceeds to throw gold coins around the crowd*

  


*cries* I love you ALL! And you know what this means......the new goal is 175!!! Mwa ha!

  
  


Okay - you need to go to this picture. Now. It's the title page for this story! angelfire . com / theforce / isbored / potc / caribbean _ secrets _ title . jpg If _that_ doesn't work.....I'll leave it in a review, or something. Remember to take out spaces!

  
  


_Huntress16: _Y'know, you're right! They _wouldn't _be so bad with him around!

  


_Firedragonfly: _Why, thank you! I also like Jack and this story, though I don't know about rum....it _is_ fermented _molasses_, after all!

  


_Ecila: _Thank you! I'm glad you like it!

  


_Ellina: _Wagh! I am being tackle-glomped again! I'm glad you think it's cute, though.

  


_Mark's Girl: _Of _course _I had too much fun with this chapter! I always do! *huggles* I hope this chapter makes you feel all better!

  


_Oil Pastel: _No! I am _still_ cursed?! *groans* Guess you leave me no choice then, do you? *mutters* Darn curses....At least it was funny, though!

  


_...: _Well, whoever you are, I agree with you. A Norrington romance must be done. And you know what? There's one floating around in my head _right now_. It's a pseudo-sequel to this story, so depending on how things work out, after this story, I may just write that one.

  


_Sugaricing: _*jumps away from sparking keyboard* Gah! Gotta stop drooling on that thing! I'm very glad to get your vote of confidence - that makes me feel muchos better!

  


_I88er-az: _Why, thank you! I'm glad you think Heather is a cool character, you make me feel special! And yeah, I wish _I_ was in the story too! *grr* I'm jealous of my own self.....

  


_Brem Nakada: _Well, thanks! I'm glad my reviewers can actually depend on me to update! And I certainly hope you _don't_ have a breakdown when it's done! I'll cry then! But don't worry, there should be a sequel of some kind....and I'll keep writing _something_, even if it's not this! *huggles*

  


_eva: _Well, I'm flattered! I can write rocking chapters! Yay!

  


_Spontaneousxhumanxcombustion: _Finally! Redundant love abounds! Thank you _forever_!

  
  


*Tear* Aww...you are all so _good_ to me! 

  


Disney, however, is not good to me. They still won't give me _Pirates_, no matter _how_ many nice reviews I get!

  
  


***********

  
  


"But we've got to save Will!" Elizabeth protested, glaring furiously at her father and the man who wanted very desperately to marry her.

  


"No. You're safe now." Governor Swann forced a smile, trying to placate his daughter. "We will return to Port Royal immediately, not go gallivanting after pirates!"

  


"They're going to kill him." I said sharply, having gotten over my hangover sufficiently to be a functioning member of the conversation, though I noticed the scandalized looks the Governor kept shooting me, as I kept my arm looped through Jack's. I was trying to keep my_balance_, for pete's sake - I still hadn't recovered well enough to maintain my sea-legs. "You're condemning him to death."

  


"The boy's fate is regrettable," the Governor admitted, "but then, so is his decision to engage in piracy!"

  


Jack rolled his eyes, as Elizabeth protested, "To rescue me, to prevent anything from happening to me!"

  


"If I may be so bold as to interject my professional opinion?" Jack stepped forward, and I quickly released his arm, barely managing to grab the arm of a nearby soldier before falling over. I gave him a sheepish grin, but he only smiled broadly, and carefully set me properly on my feet. "The _Pearl_ was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It's very unlikely she'll be able to make good time. Think about it, the Black Pearl, the last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up?"

  


"By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself." Norrington said coldly.

  


"Captain," I muttered.

  


"Commodore, I beg you. Please do this. For me..." Elizabeth hesitated. "As a wedding gift."

  


"Elizabeth." The Governor's face was wreathed with a grin as hope sparked in the Commodore's eyes. "Are you accepting the Commodore's proposal?"

  


Elizabeth drew herself up, steeling herself. "I am."

  


"Well, Christine will be impressed, anyway," I murmured to myself. "Means Will's free for the taking. She always _wanted_ a Orlando Bloom for herself."

  


"A wedding! I love weddings! Drinks all around!" Jack beamed, until he noticed the rather stern expression Norrington was fixing on him. Sighing, he held his hands forward. "I know...clap him in irons, right?"

  


"Mr. Sparrow." Norrington gestured to two of his red-coats. "You will accompany these fine men to the helm, and provide us with the bearing to_ Isla de Muerta _. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase 'silent as the grave'. Do I make myself clear?"

  


Jack grinned, but not with his eyes. "Inescapably."

  
  


***

  
  


Christine shivered, wrapping the ragged thin blanket around her shoulders. She was surprised that Barbossa had let her out of the cabin, but it was as he had laughingly pointed out - there wasn't anywhere for her to go. 

  


Now he knew she for sure wasn't a Turner, and from an accidental comment about_Elizabeth_ Swann from Gibbs, he knew she wasn't a Swann either. At first, she was worried that it might just mean overboard for her, or maybe the brig with everyone else, but instead, she remained as before, eating with the captain in his large quarters, sleeping in the tiny cabin beside it, accessible only _through_ Barbossa's cabin. It was _not_ a comforting thought at night, to realize just _how_ close the pirate captain was, so finally, as they neared the island of _Isla de Meurta _for the second time, Christine had worked up the nerve to ask if she could go out. 

  


Her goal was simple - avoid as many of Barbossa's crew as possible. The easiest way to do that was just to stay in her tiny cabin, but then it was hard to avoid Barbossa _himself_, so she sacrificed the simplicity. 

  


Her feet found the stairs to below decks, and she began carefully descending, headed to where she figured the brig might be. She understood that Jack had been marooned on that island that Elizabeth, Jack and I had been deposited on before, but that he had also _escaped_ before. She wanted to ask Gibbs how he'd done that - and if there was any chance that he could do it again. She wasn't completely without hope - after all, they'd never just leave the hero of a movie _there_, would they - but with a sinking stomach, she was remembering what I'd said about us changing things in the movie. She didn't think she'd like the idea of being stranded here on Barbossa's ship forever - or until he finally got bored.

  


When she finally reached the lowest level, she was surprised to see Pintel and Ragetti mopping the floor between the cells, and crept forward. "Excuse me," she said softly, making Ragetti jump. When he stopped mopping - more out of amazement for the use of manners than out of courtesy - she nimbly stepped around him and his mop, settling herself onto a barrel beside Will's single cell. "How are you holding up?" She asked him softly.

  


Will turned from leaning his forehead against the bars to regard her carefully. "As well as a man can, headed towards his death at the hands of pirates, his love marooned on a god-forsaken island."

  


Christine ducked her head, playing with the edge of the blanket. "Sorry," she murmured, then looked up to point out, "But at least Elizabeth's not headed to her _certain_ death at the hands of pirates. Jack escaped that island once before, didn't he?"

  


"Aye," Will whispered, returning to leaning against the bars. "He did." There wasn't much faith in his voice.

  


Pintel and Ragetti continued to swab the decks, when the parrot on the shoulder of the mute pirate, Cotton, squawked, "Awwk, shiver me timbers!"

  


"Cotton 'ere says you missed a bit," Cotton taunted, til Pintel shoved his dirty mop at the man's face.

  


Will suddenly spoke up, directly his question at the balding pirate. "You knew William Turner?"

  


Pintel paused, leaning on his mop. "Ol' Bootstrap Bill …we knew him. Never sat well with Bootstrap, what we did to Jack Sparrow, the mutiny and all. He said it wasn't right with the code, that's why he sent off a piece of the treasure to you, as it were." He grimaced. "He said we deserved to be cursed… and remain cursed."

  


"Stupid blighter," Ragetti muttered.

  


"Good man," Gibbs snapped back, fiercly.

  


"But," Pintel continued. "As you can imagine, that didn't sit well with the Captain."

  


"That didn't sit well with the Captain, at all!" Ragetti laughed, urging his friend on. "Tell him what Barbossa did!"

  


"I'm telling the story!" Pintel snapped irritably. "So, what the Captain did, he strapped a cannon to Bootstrap's bootstraps!"

  


"Bootstrap's bootstraps!" Ragetti giggled, and Christine gave a horrified gasp - precisely the reaction the pirates were hoping for. 

  


"The last we saw of ol' Bill Turner, he was sinking to the crushing black oblivion of Davy Jone's locker." Pintel's grin faded into a thoughtful frown. "'Course, it was only _after_ that we learned that we needed his blood to lift the curse."

  


"That's what you call ironic." Ragetti intoned solemnly.

  


There was a sudden thundering on the stairs, and before the two bumbling pirates could pretend to actually be working hard, Barbossa stepped off the stairs. He threw the key to Pintel, snapping, "Bring him."

  


Christine tried to shrink back into the wall, but it did her no good - as usual - as Barbossa's lips spread in a grin, and he silently beckoned with one finger. Cringing, she slid off the barrel, and walked as slowly as she dared towards the Captain. As soon as she was in arm's reach, her arm was grabbed again, and Christine stumbled up the stairs after the captain, hating the man ever more by the second.

  
  


***

  
  


I glared out over the water, fingers curled around the railing in a grip so tight that my knuckles were white. Norrington, Jack, and a few of his soldiers were sitting in a small boat only about 20 yards away, but it might as well have been miles. There was no _way_ they were going to let me join in the battle, and there was _no_ bloody way I wasn't going to.

  


I spun away from the rail, and crossed my arms over the red coat they'd given me to cover my underdress. Figuring that I was in for an inch as much as for a mile, I'd flatly refused to wear it unless someone gave me a pair of pants and some boots as well - and so I wore an oversized pair of meant-to-be fitted men's pants and a pair of boots that were only a little bit too big. The occasion was calling for creativity again, and heaven help me, I wasn't going to give up on my winning streak _now_. 

  


Within a few minutes, Elizabeth was going to be dragged, and locked into, the Captain's quarters. Knowing the bloody brilliant Commodore and his seeming need to protect anything female, I was going to be joining her. Time was short, but fortunately, at the moment, no one was paying much attention to me. Well, except that soldier that had helped me stand earlier, but I thought maybe that there was something wrong with him, because he'd been watching me like a lost puppy, and I'd _distinctly_ heard him talking to the Commodore about me that afternoon.

  


Making sure that my 'stalker' wasn't near, I sidled to the opposite edge of the deck - port - and examined the ropes that secured the lifeboat swinging over its side. It wouldn't be _that_difficult, really, all things considered. 

  


Checking once more to make sure that no one was watching, I pulled the small dagger I'd snuck from the armoury out of my waistband, and sawed through the knot of the ropes. As it was cut through, the little boat swayed dangerously for a moment, until I began feeding the rope through its pulley. Then, slowly, the boat lowered itself further down off the side of the_Dauntless_, and after a moment of breathlessly waiting for someone to catch me, the craft settled into the water beside the much larger ship.

  


Wrapping the spare end of the rope around one of the railings - just tight enough that it wouldn't float away, not tight enough to prevent later escape - I casually stepped away, carefully sliding the knife back into my waistband - just as someone called my name.

  


I froze, then turned to see that same soldier hurrying towards me, beaming. "Miss Heather!" He called again, and I winced. 

  


"Yes?" I asked, trying to sound polite and interested, all the while trying to figure out if he knew what I'd done.

  


He drew short just in front of me, smiling. "You never _did_ tell me your family name, Miss Heather," he said, persisting on a topic he'd introduced that morning.

  


"And what does it matter?" I asked again, trying to act coy.

  


"Because," he reached forward, catching my hands. That startled me more than anything - although he'd sat beside me on the deck and talked to me almost constantly for the last two days we'd been following the _Pearl_, he'd never touched me save that time he steadied me on my feet, and accidental brushes. "I want to know what I'll be changing your name from."

  


"Excuse me?" I blinked, absolutely certain that I had _no_ idea what he was talking about. 

  


"The Governor told me about your Grandfather," he said softly, holding my hands tightly in his, pressing them against his chest. "He told me how he's taken you in, now that you have no family left. And I've spoken to the Commodore about it. They've both given their blessing."

  


I looked up at him, perplexed. "For _what_?"

  


"When all this is over, and we get back to Port Royal," he pulled me a little closer. "I would be honoured if you'd be my wife."

  


I didn't say anything. I _couldn't_ say anything. _Excuse me_? I meet a soldier, who steadies me when I'm about to fall over from the side-effects of a hangover, spend two days with him in what I had _assumed_ had been his duty from the Commodore, can't even remember his name - was it Francis? - and he's asking me to _marry him?!_

  


"You don't have to answer right away," he added hurriedly, perhaps interpreting my stunned silence correctly. "Just - just think about it, alright? I'd be _honoured_," he stressed, then leaned forward to land a rather awkward kiss on the top on my head, in my hair. "Keep safe," he whispered, then released my hands, took a step back, and headed towards the other soldiers were massing.

  


I blinked. I could think of no other possible reaction. What the _hell_.....?

  


Officer Gillette coughed politely beside me, and I turned in a daze. "Yes?"

  


"Miss, you need to head into the cabin. It's for your own safety."

  


I blinked again. "Right." 

  


I followed him then, my brain still frozen, ignoring as Elizabeth had to be pulled into the cabin, wailing, "I don't care _what _the Commodore ordered, I _must _tell him! The pirates....the cannot be killed!"

  


Gillette laughed. "Don't worry, miss, he's already informed of that. A little mermaid flopped up on the deck and told him the _whole_ story." He laughed, and shut the doors, but not before I caught a glimpse of my soldier waving at me energetically.

  


My brain had melted and kicked into high gear by the time Elizabeth started pounding on the glass, screaming, "This is Jack Sparrow's doing!"

  


"Darn right, it is." I snarled, making her jump. "Now, you've got a man to rescue, I've got a bloody marriage to get out of, and _my_ pirate is out there risking his neck. There is no _bloody_way I'm going to get screwed over like this!"

  


Elizabeth gaped at me as I marched to the bed, throwing of the covers, and pulling my knife back out to make short work of the sheets. "Now, give me a hand. We're getting the heck out of here."

  
  


***********

  
  


Well! How's _that_ for a plot twist?!

  


Remember.... angelfire . com / theforce / isbored / potc / caribbean _ secrets _ title . jpg 

  


Review on the picture too, while you're at it - I'm as insecure as an artist as I am as a writer! 

  
  


175 is the goal, ladies and gentlemen, clickity click!

  
  
  



	20. Now THAT'S interesting

Well, friends. I am _truly _impressed. 175! 

  


*cries* Oh, I don't deserve this! I don't! But I am honored that you like this - thank you forever, and a day!

  


However..........

  


You know what 175 means. 200!!!!

  


Ooh....look at that number, that big magical 200....of course, if you wanna give me _more_ than that....I shall not complain!

  
  


_Kery J. Wales: _Oddly enough, ff does the exact same thing to me. Here's how to get around it - when done reading and want to review, go up to the address, and where it says "read", change it to "review". Then click enter. That should help. And thank you - frankly I didn't think the movie was boring, but then, we already know _that_ story! Is much fun to add my own twists to the original story! Thanks!

  


_Spidergurlrox: _Got the script online...just go to Google, and type in "PotC script". You'll be able to find one. It's not hard to find. :) And I'm glad you like my writing....pretty much I wrote Elizabeth as a prick cause it fits the scene....I hope she's not _too_ OOC. And by "underclothes", I assume you mean jeans and tanktops?

  


_Lady Riddle and Jesentra: _I'm glad I "capture my readers"! And since you demanded it...more chapters!

  


_HyperCaz: _Yes, in my fiction, and everyone elses, Jack finally gets a girl! Thank you!

  


_Completeopposites: _Glad you liked it. That would have to be one of my favorite parts too - Heather finally admitting that she _likes_ snuggling up to Jack. Thank you!

  


_Lyssa2: _You were _so_ the inspiration for the whole "welcome to the Caribbean" thing! I was tempted to do some butt-slapping...but then it'd be blatant stealing, so.... I had far too much fun writing that. And yes, you can lick off his fingers next time.

  


_Alicia the Skull: _Lookis! New chapters! *happy rum dance* The chapter choosy thing lets you go further now! You can read!

  


_Ecila: _*doles out ice packs for keyboard impact injuries* I too, enjoy grinning like an idiot. Enjoy!

  


_J. Liha: _Well, it's pretty easy, actually. Just pucker up and....yeah. :D Don't worry. I shall return Jack in _almost_ perfect condition. He may be slightly corrupted....but it's pretty hard to corrupt Jack. Thank you....I do enjoy drawering. :)

  


_uh...not Mark's Girl?: _Well, seeing as he doesn't deserve you...go out and snag yourself an Orlie, girl. Or a hot Scottish guy. ;) And I still dunno....would Jack even _listen_ to birds?

  


_Dana-Black: _Thankies!

  


_Huntess16: _Yeah, tell me about it! She can't even remember his _name_, for pete's sake!

  


_Ellina: _Aww...no tackle-glomps? And yes, I shall now disembody myself, float out my body, and we can trade places so you'll be Heather, and I can be Ellina. Does that work? :) Oh...and it might make it _slightly_ difficult to marry the poor man if he's dead....Whee! Magic medallions! (Yes, I am easily distracted. ;D )

  
  


What? You mean Disney wants to give _me_ this movie? For _free_?! Wow! Hey.....oh shoot. Dreaming again. *pouts*

  
  


************

  
  


Christine stumbled over one of the arm bones left conveniently in her way, and swore under her breath when Barbossa caught her from falling, pulling her too close to him for comfort to prevent any other slips. He heard the expletive, and half-chuckled, though his mind seemed more focused on the young man that Pintel and Ragetti were ushering into the cave. 

  


She felt rather sorry for Will right then. Poor guy...his girl had been marooned on a tiny island, he'd just found out that his father had been murdered in cold blood, and now he was about to be murdered himself just so that some greedy pirates wouldn't be un-dead anymore. 

  


"No reason to fret," Pintel was telling him. "Just a prick of the finger, and a few drops of blood."

  


"No mistakes this time," Twigg snapped. "He's only half-Turner. We spill it _all_."

  


Will didn't really seem all that surprised, as Pintel chuckled, "Guess there _is_ reason to fret."

  


Clambering up the mound of treasure, two pirates seized Will's arms, pushing him towards the chest, and Barbossa shoved Christine into Ragetti's arms, much to the one-eyed pirate's surprise. "Don't you _dare_ let her go," Barbossa growled, and Ragetti nodded eagerly, turning Christine around so her back was pressed against his chest, and firmly seizing her hands in his, crossing them over her chest and holding tight. Glaring back over her shoulder at him, she then resigned herself to anxiously watching.

  


A slight sound behind her, however, made her tear her eyes away from the disturbing scene of Barbossa with a knife and Will being forced to lean over the chest. "Begun by blood," Barbossa said with finality, but she wasn't listening. Had she just heard...

  


"Beg your pardon," a voice said, and frowning, Christine craned her neck to try to look around Ragetti's skinny shoulder to see who in the world it _was_. 

  


"By blood un..." Barbossa was still continuing, but he was cut off, surprisingly, by Will.

  


"Jack!"

  


"S'not possible," Barbossa whispered, face paling as he took a step back.

  


"Not _probable_," Jack corrected, holding up his hands. Christine had never been so immensely pleased to see anyone in her life.

  


"Where's Elizabeth?" Will gasped.

  


"She's safe, just like I promised." Jack paused, then plunged the proverbial knife into Will's heart. "She's all set to marry Norrington, just like she promised. You get to die for her, just like _you_ promised. Heather, I understand, is to be adopted into the Governor's family just as _he_ promised. So we're all men of our word, except for Elizabeth, who is, in fact, a woman."

  


"Shut up! You're next!" Barbossa snarled, leaning forward with the knife again, aiming at slitting the blacksmith's throat.

  


"You don't want to be doing that, mate." Jack interrupted again, earning an irritated glare from Barbossa.

  


"No, I really think I do."

  


Jack shrugged lazily. "Your funeral."

  


Barbossa stopped, teeth gritted, a tick in his cheek twitching. "Why don't I want to be doing it?"

  


"Well, because..." Jack paused to push the arm of a pirate off his shoulder, giving the man a look that clearly asked how he'd deemed himself allowed to touch the captain. "Because the _HMS Dauntless_, pride of the royal navy, is floating just offshore...waiting for _you_."

  


Time stopped. Emotions chased themselves around on Barbossa's face, and Ragetti's arms around Christine loosened considerably as his jaw dropped open. And while at any other time she would have taken full advantage of that to pull away, she instead was staring at Jack as well, joyous thoughts fighting for her attention. _The navy? That meant that she was _saved! _Finally!_

  


"Just hear me out, mate." Jack held his hands up again, gesturing wildly. "You order your men to row out to the Dauntless; they do what they do best. Robert's your Uncle, Fannie's your Aunt, there you are with two ships. The makings of your very own fleet. 'Course you'll take the grandest as your flagship, and who's to argue? But what of the _Pearl_? Name _me_ Captain, I'll sail under _your_ colors, I'll give you...ten percent of me plunder, and you get to introduce yourself as…" He paused for effect. "_Commodore_ Barbossa. Savvy?"

  


Barbossa lifted an eyebrow. "I suppose, in exchange, you want me not to kill the whelp."

  


"No, no, not at all. By all means - kill the whelp." He held up his hands quickly as Will's eyes widened in alarm. "Just...not _yet_. Wait to lift the curse...until the opportune moment. For instance," he paused, bending to run his fingers through the cursed medallions, picking up a few. "After you've killed Norrington's men." Tossing in a medallion with each word, he enunciated, "Every....last....one."

  


Taking a step back, he grinned, hooking his thumbs into his belt. 

  


Christine's eyes narrowed. There was the slightest gleam of gold in the pirate's hands as he moved them, but her eyes must have been deceiving her. There was nothing there when he crossed his arms a moment later.

  


Will's eyes were narrowed too, but she was pretty sure, by the look on his face, that he had caught something she'd missed. "You've been planning this from the beginning," he snarled, tugging against the pirates holding his arms as though to get to Jack. "Ever since you learned my name."

  


Jack grinned, gold teeth glinting. "Yeah," he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  


Barbossa, meanwhile, had been thinking. "I want fifty percent of your plunder."

  


Lazily, Jack turned back. "Fifteen."

  


"Forty."

  


"Twenty-five. And I'll buy you the hat. A really big one...Commodore."

  


Barbossa's lips curled into a smirk. "We have an accord." Reaching forward, he gripped the other man's hand in his firmly, shaking once.

  


Spinning so that he almost tumbled over, Jack yelled, "All hands to the boats!" Noticing Barbossa's expression, he stepped back, bowing. "Apologies. You give the orders."

  


"Gents!" Barbossa barked. "Take a walk!"

  


Turning, the pirate's headed out of the cave, splashing into the water. 

  


"Not to the boats?" Jack asked in surprise, turning to give the 'Commodore' an odd look. 

  


Barbossa only grinned, and Jack turned back to see the pirates completely enter the water. "Ah."

  
  


***

  
  


Giving the knots on the make-shift rope a vindictive yank, I glanced up from my task to see, through the slightly wavy glass, a small wooden boat with two parasoled women in it. Of course - they _weren't _women - they were Pintel and Ragettit.

  


"Crap," I whispered, then jerked my head towards the window. "C'mon, 'Lizabeth, we need to get out of here."

  


"We _are_ going to go save Will, right?" She demanded in a low voice, gathering up an armload of makeshift rope. 

  


"_Obviously_," I hissed back. "You think Jack needs saving?" She had to smile a little at that, then I added, "Besides, Christine's still on that ship somewhere. I want to rescue her _too_."

  


Elizabeth nodded, then we both jumped at a soft tapping on the door. A moment later, Governor Swann's voice floated in. "A moment, please. Elizabeth? I just want you to know, I…I believe you made a very good decision today. Couldn't be more proud of you." There was silence for a moment, then he added, "And Heather? I'm so _very_ pleased to hear about Private Parsons. He's a fine young man, you'll be quite happy." 

  


"Ah," I murmured. "So _that's_ his name. Francis Parsons."

  


Elizabeth gave me an odd look, and I pointed to the window. Being as quiet as we could, she helped me throw the rope out, then hissed, "Who's Francis Parsons?"

  


"The man I'm marrying when we get back," I hissed back, then clambered out the window, Elizabeth following right behind.

  


"What do you _mean_, the man you're marrying?" Elizabeth demanded. "And where did this boat come from?"

  


"First, I retrieved this boat, because I knew that we needed it to get out of here. I had absolutely no intention of remaining on board while pirates attacked and Jack risked his neck to save _your_ man, and _my _friend." Taking up the oars, I tugged the rope to set us off, then began paddling. "Second, I'm marrying Private Parsons because _your_ father and _your_ fiancé decided to play matchmaker. Give me a hand here, will you?"

  
  


***

  
  


Ragetti had been sent off to distract the navy, and Christine had to admit that it had been rather amusing to see the two pirates dressing in drag. Of course, her warden disappearing meant that she was released - for the moment - and so had sunk to the ground, idly letting pieces of eight run through her fingers. 

  


She had no illusions that her momentary freedom was going to last, and so she made no attempts to run off - she had absolutely _no_ desire to feel Barbossa's dirty hands wrapped around her - now - quite purple arm anymore. 

  


Will was still being held by two of the pirates who had stayed behind, and Jack was straying amongst the treasure, eyeing it all eagerly.

  


"I must admit, Jack," Barbossa spoke up, leaning against the chest. "I thought I had ye figured. It turns out that you're a hard man to predict."

  


"Me?" Jack feigned innocence. "I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest...honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly… stupid." Grinning, he drew a sword, and struck out at Barbossa, who caught the blade with his own.

  


"You're off the edge of the map, mate." Barbossa grinned like a banshee. "Here there be monsters."

  
  


***

  
  


I touched a finger to my lips, motioning for silence. It wasn't all that necessary - Elizabeth knew as well as I that we had to be stealthy. Suppressing a grunt, I hauled myself over the railing, swinging over onto the deck of the _Black Pearl_.

  


Turning, I made to help Elizabeth up, when from the shadows, came a hiss, followed by the snarling form of Barbossa's monkey, Jack. 

  


"Let me," Elizabeth growled, and I smirked, hefting a stout board, and handing it to her.

  
  


***

  
  


Christine was on her feet, hands at her mouth, staring with wide eyes at the battle on the treasure strewn plain. 

  


"You can't beat me, Jack." Barbossa said calmly, and Christine was beginning to think that maybe, just _maybe_, she agreed with him. Jack, however, slammed his sword forward, impaling his former first mate. Barbossa sighed, pulled the sword out, then before Christine could scream out a warning, ran Jack straight through.

  


_Then_ Christine screamed. Just when she was starting to think that maybe the pirate _wasn't_ such of a cad, he went and got himself stabbed! Jack stumbled, blinking. And then, he took a step back, the moonlight spilling over his body.

  


It was as though the image of Jack Sparrow, the man with his life abruptly ended in his prime was suddenly replaced with an image of Jack Sparrow in a year or so, when the flesh had begun to decay off his resting skeleton, his clothes rotting off his body.

  


Holding his now-skeletal hand up, he clicked the bones, turning it over. "That's interesting," he said, his voice the same nonchalant it had always been. Hand descending to his belt, there was suddenly the gold in it again, as he passed one of the cursed medallions between his fingers. "Couldn't resist, mate."

  


Christine backed up, retreating until she stood nearly beside Will, ignoring the gaping pirates that still held his arms. She did _not_ like this recent turn of events. 

  


Removing the sword from his gut, Jack sprang forward, returning to his normal self in the shadows, then skeleton again as the light fell on him. As he pushed Barbossa back across the ground, he passed her and Will, and called, "Sorry."

  


"So what now, Jack Sparrow?" Barbossa asked, not missing a beat. "Will it be two immortals locked in an epic battle until Judgement day and the trumpets sound?"

  


"Or you could surrender," Jack shot back.

  


"Arr," Barbossa laughed, and steel rang on steel.

  
  


***

  
  


Having dealt with the guards and successfully unlocked the door to the brig, I pounded up the stairs, Elizabeth and the Jack's crew following. "All of you with me! Will is in that cave, and we must save him. Ready? And heave!" Noticing that no one was helping her, she turned back, eyes pleading. "Please, I need your help, come on!"

  


"Any port in a storm," Cotton's parrot broke the silence.

  


"Cotton's right," Gibbs said softly. "We've _got_ the _Pearl_."

  


"What about Jack? You're just going to _leave_ him?!" Elizabeth gaped.

  


"Jack owes us a ship," one of the sailors pointed out.

  


"It's the code, Elizabeth. Any man that falls behind, stays behind." Gibbs shot me a relieved look at my cold understanding, but Elizabeth looked at me with something akin to horror. 

  


"The _code_!? You're all _pirates_, hang the code, and _hang_ the rules! They're more like _guidelines_, anyway!" None of them moved. Turning her accusatory eyes to me, she cried, "Don't tell me _you're_ just going to leave Jack behind! I've _seen_ the way you look at him!"

  


I winced, and closed my eyes. "_I_ never said anything about leaving him behind, _Miss Swann_. If you'd like to stop putting words into my mouth, please..." Turning away from her, I pointed to Gibbs. "I need a sword. A good one. Light enough for me to fight with."

  


Elizabeth gaped at me, as Gibbs nodded, and one of the pirate's darted into a door in the wall beside us, immediately beside the captain's quarters. A mere moment later, he emerged, holding a simple, but functional sword. He handed it to me hilt first, and I gripped it tightly, frowning as I found it heavier than expected. "You sure you know how to use that?" Gibbs asked, smiling a little.

  


I was immediately reminded of a story I had read back before this whole fiasco had begun, a story staring a brilliant sixteen year old named Rebecca. Grinning wistfully, I answered him with one of her unforgettable quotes. "Of course. The pointy end goes in the other guy."

  


Saluting the pirate crew, I spun, and climbed back over the railing. Shimmying down the rope, I stood in the small craft, looking up. "Coming?" I called, and my query was answered a moment later by Elizabeth climbing down to join me. 

  


As I took the oars and began headed towards the cave, Elizabeth glared at me like _I_ had become the enemy, and growled, "Bloody pirates."

  


I couldn't help the little smirk that spread across my face. "Bloody pirates, indeed. That's why I love them so much."

  
  


**********

  
  


Whee! That's a _loooong_ chappie! And the story quoted there is Pirates of the Caribbean : The Curse with a Twist, by Lyssa2, on this site. It's amazing! Go read!

  


Remember...200! If you loved it, tell me! If you hated it, tell me! Just make me feel special and click that little button!

  
  
  
  
  
  



	21. Pirate Gold and the Ending of Curses

*Dances across an impromptu stage that just appeared out of nowhere.*

  


I'm in a good mood! And this story is making me so _happy_! Of course, it's starting to draw to a close now....*cries* No! No thinking about ending! Think about happy chapters and adventure and...and...._reviews!_

  


I haven't quite reached 200 yet...*sighs* I thought that would be neat, to have 200 reviews on chapter 20, but alas, it seems it was not to be. Maybe it's cause I only give you about 24 hours to review on a chapter? Meh. 

  
  


_Ecila: _I don't think he's so "yucky" as slightly deluded....:D And thank you _so_ much! And will Jack be alright? Mwa ha! Now we get to find out!

  


_AndriJ: _Aww....afraid not, luv. It was a good try though! Maybe you can be 200! And I'm glad you like it!

  


_Spontaneousxhumanxcombstion: _It is a _beautiful_ story, even? Aww.....thank you _so _much! And I thought it was fun to stick that poor love-sick soldier in too! I've never used AOL, but it sounds like you weren't having much fun with it, and yet you miss it! Go figure. I'm like that all the time. Good stuff, then!

  


_Seductive Gypsy: _Ack! Slow? Maybe I should spice it up and make this chapter good and exciting! Thanks for the advice!

  


_Andi Horton: _Aww...I _thought_ I'd heard that quote somewhere before. Meh...it was Lyssa I heard it from, so Lyssa gets quoted. Thank you so much, though, for being my _most_ faithful reviewer! And updates today? *happy rum dance* I can't wait!!! *huggles* And you actually got a day off because of the hurricanes? *jaw drops* We got tons of rain (SNOW tonight!!! Augh!) But we never got any time off...*pouts*

  


_completeopposites: _Thanks! I'm glad you liked it!

  


_Oil Pastel: _Give into the Dark Side, Pastel. When you read something funny, laugh hysterically at the top of your lungs. And when people look at you weird, laugh at _them_. :D On a _slightly_ more serious note (aww, who am I kidding? I'm _never_ serious!) I'm glad you actually think it's funny. I try.

  


_Saiyan-girl-cheetah: _Thankies! Yeah, I was most proud of the background, but hey, I drew the whole thing with a _mouse_! I'm happy that you like it so much - don't worry, I'll keep on updating so you can keep on reading!

  


_Mandamirra10: _Apology accepted. I understand completely. Now go read and enjoy! 

  


_Dara Maeko: _Thanks! Boy, people like hugging me for some strange reason....weird. *huggles, then bounces along with you* Whee!

  


_Ellina: _Sure, Rebecca is the main character in Lyssa2's PotC story - go check it out, sometime! *falls on the floor from a _running_ tackle-glomp* Oof! Yay! I am _loved_! *tears* Switching bodies will be fun then...I'll get to tackle-glomp YOU! Mwa ha....and yes, I would have to agree. But did you also notice that they all are rather....um....skeletal? *snickers, then realizes she holding a Jack Skellington doll instead of a Jack Sparrow doll* YIPE!

  


Now. I thought this scene was too short. So I made it longer. Mwa ha.

  


Yes, that's right, Disney. You refused to give me my pirates, so I am forced to add to/delete from the storyline so that I can _pretend_ I own something. I still don't. But I _do_ own Heather! And you can't have her! MWA HA!!

  


Yes. I am lame. No sue.

  


***************

  


I was banking on having the element of surprise. After all, by now, Jack and Barbossa should be fighting (though it _would_ make it handier if they hadn't even got to that point yet) and Will was sure to soon start defending himself. The fact that Christine hadn't been on the _Black Pearl_ worried me, but I really, _really_ hoped that she wasn't going to do anything...stupid.

  


Sword in hand, I leapt out of the rowboat the moment we reached the shore, splashing through the last couple inches of water, and headed, warily, for the cave. A sudden roar of fury and the clash of steel on steel made me wince. Tightening my grip on the sword, I rounded the corner - and very nearly smashed into the back of a pirate. 

  


He let out a yelp of surprise - but I _think_ that may have been, because, when I ran into him, my sword had been out. And it quite effectively had lodged itself in his ribs.

  


Wincing, but not too stupid to pass up a prime opportunity when it showed itself, so I jerked the sword up as hard as I could, grimacing at the disturbingly satisfying sound of crunching bones. 

  


The pirate wailed with what I _had_ to assume was pain, stumbling forward, so I stuck my foot on his back, and pushed forward, pulling my blade out, though it came out with such force that I stumbled back, caught off guard. The scream of the _mildly_ injured pirate had, unfortunately, drawn the attention of every other pirate in the room, save Barbossa and Jack, who I could see towards the rear of the cave, fighting for their immortal lives. 

  


The few pirates left turned towards me, their attention distracted from the Captains dueling, which unsettled me more than a little, but it was precisely the distraction Will had been looking for. 

  


Snatching a sword, he managed to strike one of the pirates near him hard enough to sever a hand, which fell into the moonlight, flailing like a live thing. That pirate let out a hellish shriek, and suddenly Will was fighting - again - for his life. There was a small, feminine shriek beside him, and my head spun from the pirate I had been watching nervously, to spot Christine, backed against the coin chest, eyes wide, what looked like blood splashed across the bodice of her dress.

  


Survival instinct - not survival for myself, but that weird survival instinct that anthropologists interestingly correlate in savage tribes, noting how these people seem, strangely enough, to forget about their own well-being when other members of their tribe are in danger - kicked in. 

  


Breaking away from my previous target, I charged towards the mound of treasure. I raced past Elizabeth, who had found herself a large, heavy golden pole, and was swinging it like a vicious pike, and then Will, who was being backed by a skeletal pirate down the treasure mound. But on the very top, beside the stone chest, Christine was clinging to the stone with white knuckles, one of the pirates standing over her, sword at her throat. "Barbossa's been keepin' ye all to himself," he growled, one hand moving forward as though to snatch her arm. "I think it's time he _shared_, see?"

  


Before Christine could move, I let out a rather feral yell, and slammed my sword down towards his reaching arm. 

  


He pulled it away - unfortunately, and swung his own sword, connecting solidly with my blade. "Here to take her place, are we?" He leered, and I snarled.

  


"Christine, hide. Now. Or better yet..." I paused, moving the sword to block a thrust. "Grab something sharp and pointy and start stabbing pirates."

  


"Can do," she squeaked, and I heard the scrabbling sound of someone sliding down a hill of coin. Sensing that my friend was - temporarily - out of danger, I struck out at the pirate myself, wanting to 'do unto others before it is done unto me'.

  


It probably would have been good if I knew what I was doing. If I had taken fencing lessons, or practiced three hours a day like Will, or, heck, even have _held_ a sword that wasn't actually a cardboard Christmas wrapping paper tube before. And while I was at it, it would have been nice if I had of had armor instead of an over-large Redcoat uniform, and it might have helped if I had been, like my opponent, unable to be killed. 

  


I _wasn't_, and _didn't_, and _hadn't_, so I was forced to resort more primitive methods of attack, like kicking his feet out from under him, and swinging the sword like a maniac.

  


I decided that it was actually a _good_ thing that the sword was as heavy as it was - it meant that I had to exert less energy, and could just let momentum do it's job. I was also highly grateful for the semi-comfortable boots they'd given me, because I was having to do a lot of fancy footwork, and it would have been impossible in those stiff, buckled things I'd had before. It was as I was dancing around the chest that I felt a shift, and the sudden chill of cold metal sliding a little further down my chest.

  


Risking a glance away, I looked down, and felt my stomach sink. The old string that I had tied the medallion to, the string that had lasted _so_ well through this entire madcap adventure, had finally broken. I prayed that it would still remain around my neck, but as I continued to lift my arm and swing for all I was worth, I could feel the cold steel slide further and further down. As I made a desperate pirouette to avoid the blade, the cool metal touch was suddenly gone, and there was a distinctive tinkling sound. 

  


As I swung back around the chest, I looked down. There, laying on top of the other cursed coins, lay one with a distinctive blue string strung through it. Half of me was sighing with relief - now I was rid of it, and I wouldn't have to worry about it, and there was _no_ way I was going to pick that thing back up! The other half, though, was screaming that that coin was the only link I had to whatever had happened, and for all I knew, I would never get home without it.

  


I didn't know what to believe. Did I want to risk the curse, even if that _was_ the 823 coin, and technically not part of the story at all? Or did I just want to risk never getting home?

  


I winced as the pirate's sword struck mine, and my hands shook as I tried to push him away. I needed to _think_, darn it, and I couldn't with this lout attacking me!

  


An explosion suddenly rocked the cave, knocking treasure asunder, and sending my attacker's head snapping around as he tried to figure out what had happened. In the space of seconds, I glanced to the right, to see Jack and Barbossa still fighting, then to the left, where Christine was desperately trying to fight a pirate off with a jeweled scepter she'd found. 

  


I didn't want my best friend to have to live her life like this. If I had any chance of being able to bring her home, I had to use it.

  


Making up my mind, I turned enough to snatch the yarn off the pile, taking the medallion with it, then charged down the hill, catching Christine's attacker off guard as his head parted ways with his shoulders, and went careening off into the moonlight, where it lay opening and closing its jaws.

  


Christine gaped at me, at my bloody sword, then at the body without a head, which had now fallen to its knees. "That...was disgusting," she gagged.

  


"Yeah." I had to agree, though, and I probably wouldn't admit it, the feel of my sword severing the neck had felt disturbingly _good_.

  


Will, meanwhile, I could see out the corner of my eye, had done nearly the same thing as I, only with the pirate on the hill that I had been fighting before. As that skeleton fell to the treasure littered earth in neat halves, he reached his hand out, catching something golden in it. 

  


And then, cutting everything else short, a shot rang out over the cave.

  


We all spun towards the source. Jack stood, smoking pistol in hand, pointing it at Barbossa's torso. Barbossa lowered the gun he'd been holding aimed at Elizabeth a moment before, and laughed. "Ten years you carry that pistol, and now you waste your shot."

  


"He didn't waste it," Will said coldly, and we all turned to see him holding his hand over the chest. Opening it, two blood-stained medallions tumbled out, turning over and over, then tinkling into the other coins of the pile. 

  


Barbossa dropped his sword, clattering against the stones, and put a shaking, pale hand to his chest. He frowned in concentration, touching the wound, the hand coming up dry. "I'm not dead," he whispered, sounding shocked.

  


"But all the medallions..." Elizabeth whispered, and my own blood ran cold. My hand strayed to my pocket, dipping inside to remove a single gold medallion, a piece of yarn dangling from it.

  


"Not _all_ the medallions," I whispered, and terrified of what I might see, slowly reached my hand out into the moonlight spilling in a pool only inches from where I stood. 

  


Christine let out a horrified gasp, but I could not find the energy in me to muster any kind of response. My hand wasn't shaking, my guts weren't wanting to expel everything in them, my eyesight wasn't even blurring. Instead, my vision was crystal clear as I stared at my own bones, my own shredded and decaying skin.

  


Blinking, I stepped forward, feeling no change, but looking down and seeing that I could see _through_ my clothes, which were hanging off me in ragged tatters, and then, oddly enough, _through_ my rib cage. I could see my own spine. I tried to blink again, but I no longer had eyelids. I tried to lick my lips, but those, too, were gone. Instead, I ran my rough tongue over the teeth and bones that were all I had left of my jaw. 

  


Turning to trust my other hand back into the shadows, I felt disgusted, finally, when I saw that my left hand, in the light, was skeletal, and my right, in the shadows, was whole, healthy. _That_ was just wrong. Very, very wrong. 

  


All this, though, had taken place in a matter of seconds. Time had seemed to freeze, horrified expressions turned towards me, but my response was simple. Letting my sword slide out of my whole hand, I made sure to catch my fingers, my palm, my wrist on the blade, startled that the slicing open and bleeding of flesh did not hurt. Transferring the medallion to my now blood-slicked hand, I tossed it - and Will, shaking himself from his shock, caught it.

  


There was no moment of reflective silence befitting the end of a ten year curse, no poetic words to signify then ending of an era, nothing to suggest pomp or ceremony. Only the dull sound of a gold medallion clinking against eight hundred and eighty two of it's brothers, and a sudden gasp of pain from an old pirate captain.

  


"I feel...cold." He whispered, then, a moment later, Barbossa's eerily staring body collapsed to the floor. An apple rolled out of his hand, bouncing across the treasure strewn floor to land at Christine's feet. 

  


I felt no different. _Is this what it feels like to be cursed_? I wondered, suddenly light-headed and not so sure on my feet. Will and Elizabeth still stood, side by side, beside the stone chest, Christine had stooped to pick up the apple, Jack stood beside his first mate's body...but I couldn't move. 

  


_Now_ the world was starting to blur before me. _Now_ I felt cold. _Now_ I felt cursed. 

  


My feet fell out from under me, sending me sprawling forward onto the stone and gold covered floor, some precious-stone encrusted item digging into my ribs. There was sudden sound beside me, and I made no protest as hands roughly flipped me over onto my back, letting my head loll on it's side. A hand touched my cheek, turning my head to face upwards, and I found myself, rather to my surprise, staring up at Jack's face. "Are you alright?" He was demanding. "Heather?!"

  


I blinked. I was quite unable to respond. My tongue felt like it had turned to lead, and oddly enough, my right arm was beginning to feel very cold, and appeared to have lost all feeling.

  


That same arm was grabbed suddenly by someone, and as I stared up at the moonlit cave roof, I could barely hear babbling voices frantically discussing it. Something about _blood loss_, and _shock_...I seemed quite unable to understand.

  


I did understand, however, that the curse must have been lifted a moment later, for while still cursed, I had felt no pain. Pain suddenly flared through my right hand and up the arm as someone wrapped something around it, which I discovered after turning my head a little, was the scarf belt Barbossa had worn around his waist. Funny - I'd thought it was yellow - it seemed to be turning red at a rather rapid rate.

  


Something was settled on my head, sinking around my ears, and I turned my eyes upward, catching the odd glint of gold from somewhere above my head. Forcing my mouth and tongue into action, I managed, "What...?"

  


There was warm breath in my ear, and Jack's voice, whispering, "You did amazing, luv. You deserve to be rewarded for that."

  


And then someone's arms were under my knees and shoulders, and I was slumped against a vested chest as they carried me out of the cave, away from the large red stain that had spread across the ground. I forced my head to tilt back, looking up at the face of my rescuer, and found myself to be pleasantly surprised that the chin I was looking up at had a forked and braided black beard.

  


"Just drop us off at my ship." The chest I was leaning against rumbled as its owner spoke. "AnaMaria will...will be able to help her. We have to stop the bleeding."

  


"Jack..." Elizabeth's voice floated into my ears. It seemed to catch, then whispered, "There isn't a ship to go back to, Jack."

  


Silence, then the chest slumped a little, and a voice whispered. "Oh."

  


Then he moved again, and I whimpered as my non-bandaged hand bumped against the edge of a boat. That hand was lifted, set tenderly in my lap, the boat rocked a little, and then began to move. 

  


"I'm sorry, Jack," Elizabeth's voice returned to my ears.

  


"They done what's right by them." Jack's voice seemed lost, almost, and the last thing I heard before the darkness that had been encroaching on my senses finally claimed me was his voice. 

  


"Can't expect more than that."

  


**************

  


Mwa ha! How's _that_ for yet _more_ plot twists?! Yes, I _am_ evil, why do you ask?

  


Review! There's a shiny new 200 number waiting to be sitting there in the story description, folks! You could even flame my horrible "I stole all the glory for _myself!"_-ness if you want. Is that what I did, anyway? *looks at story while scratching head* Meh. You tell me.

  


There. I have ranted. You review.

  



	22. A Time to Choose

*cries* Look at that shiny number, my friends! That pretty, shiny, number that is so high! That's right.....it _is_ over 200! *huggles everyone in sight* I love you all _so much!!!!!_

  


*sniffs* I am so bloody happy!!

  


Now......*grins like a banshee* Can I get 225 now?! Whee!

  
  


_Spidergurlrox: _Oh dear. I have no make chapters _longer_?! *sighs* Yes, ma'am. And yes, Jack _is_ sweet. And yes, I am darned lucky that you _aren't_ there! Mwa ha!

  


_Seductive Gypsy: _Well then. I have done my job right! Thanks!

  


_Elderberry: _Yeah, I know...but it was so darn fun! I'm glad it was a _good_ plot-twist, though. I was worried about that.

  


_Lyssa2: _Meh. I heard it from you. I quote you. And Rebecca. Mwa ha! I'm glad you like it that much though - thank you! I'm also really glad you think that I described it well enough...that was part of the challenge.

  


_Ecila: _No worries - it isn't going to end _that_ soon! There's still some more Jack-ness for you yet!

  


_Jorja: _Wow....someone that sat and read the story all in one go! I'm glad you like it - marooned is also my favorite!

  


_Dara Maeko: _*huggles back!* Is huggable a word? My dictionary says no - but that's never stopped me before! And nothing wrong with being Dutch - I am 3/4 Dutch myself, so that's cool!

  


_Oil Pastel: _Seductive, the Dark Side is. Mwa ha! Oh...terrible sorry that there wasn't anything funny in this chapter - I hope you weren't hurt from falling off the cliff-hanger! And I'm _still_ bloody cursed?! Must do something about that. *realizes for the first time that an undead pirate monkey is sitting on her shoulder* Aieeee!!!!

  


_Ellina: _You asked for it! *tackle-glomp* Mwa ha! Well....at least I manage a _good_ Mary Sue...I had hoped that she wasn't one of those evil variety. And _is_ she gonna stay? Or _is_ she gonna leave? MWA HA!!!

  


_Andi Horton: _I can't seem to _not_ do the 'independent woman'...maybe _that's_ why I'm lonely!! And that _was_ an amazing chapter, girl. Keep up the bloody amazing work. GO READ THIS GIRL'S STORY!!!! And wow - you near-ocean people got it bad - we got wind and rain and snow. That's it.

  


_Completeopposites: _Whee! Thank you! See, normally I have a lot of trouble with 'action scenes', so I tried really hard. Glad it worked!

  


_Valor: _Hey...Lyssa and her amazing fiction! I'm really glad you like it. And yes, I like cliff-hangers. Makes you actually want to read the next chapter! Mwa ha!

  


_AleniaOceanstar: _Hey...I love Jack too! Isn't that a weird co-inky-dink? Ooh...I write _sensuously_?! *is very excited* And you could _so_ write the very best Jack romance on the net - this could hardly be the best! Ahh! *runs from pointy things!*

  


_Huntress16: _What, the _chapter_ sucks, or bleeding on the floor sucks? Cause bleeding _does_ suck, somewhat. If it's the chapter, though....maybe I could work on that?

  


_Elizabeth: _Soo glad you liked it! Cardboard swords are the best! Okay...so not the _best_...metal ones have the slight advantage....thankies!

  
  


Oh....and there seems to be this growing consensus that this story is ending with this chapter. Not quite yet! There is still _this_ chapter, two more, and an epilogue. (Course, I haven't written any of them yet, so.....:D ) But yes, that _is_ the plan. Happy Rum Dance with me!

  
  


Happy Rum Dance is MINE! *huggles it* MINE! I can't have bloody anything else...let me have my silly dance....*sniff*

  
  


*************

  
  


I woke up.

  


Frankly, that was the only way I could think to describe it, though I didn't feel either 'awake', or 'up'. For that matter, I felt dismal, in pain, and my tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth. I was reminded of my brief 'hang-over' stint, but that seemed to pale in comparison. 

  


Forcing my eyes open, I discovered that I was staring up at the sturdy ceiling of _The Dauntless_, that I was lying on a bed, that my right hand was wrapped in what seemed to be a veritable magnitude of bandages. That fact was determined by the fact that my head had been turned a little to the right, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see the disturbingly red-stained white wrappings. 

  


As I woke a little more, I realized that someone was sitting on my left, and that that someone was holding my hand.

  


Swallowing to try to force some moisture into my dry mouth, I called, surprised at how rough my voice was, "Hello?"

  


There was a sudden scrabbling movement to my left, conveniently out of my line of sight, and a man's voice, "I'm here."

  


Frowning slightly, I rasped, "Jack?"

  


"In the brig, where the pirate belongs."

  


I closed my eyes, headache threatening my senses. That was hardly the kind of response I was _expecting_, and from the sounds of it, this couldn't be Will, either. 

  


I tried to turn my head, wincing as it felt like my head had been filled with bricks. _Heavy_ bricks. "What-? _Who-_?"

  


"It's alright," the voice whispered, squeezing my hand a little tighter. "I'm here."

  


Finally, _finally_, I turned my head enough to see just _who_ it was that was holding my hand. And I swore.

  


Francis' tanned face paled a little. "Are you - is there any pain?" He leapt to his feet, looking desperate. "It's not in pain, is it?"

  


"Yes," I groaned, closing my eyes. "I _am_ in pain."

  


"Oh dear!" There was more scrabbling movement, the sound of a chair being pushed back hastily. "Perhaps I should get the surgeon...oh...but he said it might have to amputated!"

  


I snapped my eyes back open. "He said _what_?!"

  


Francis halted, brown eyes wide in surprise. "Amputate. He said he may have to amputate, if the wound goes septic. I tried to convince him, but...if it _hurts_ so much...."

  


"And a bloody amputation without anesthetic _wouldn't_ hurt?!" I winced, trying to lift my injured hand, but discovering, much to my dismay, that I couldn't. I didn't think they did amputations unless the wound was _really_ bad... "Just..._how_ badly was I injured?"

  


Francis hesitated again, seeming to be debating over whether to stay and talk to me, or run for the ship's surgeon. I was most relieved when I won out. "Badly. You...managed to injure your entire hand and wrist. The surgeon says that it was lucky Elizabeth bandaged it when she did - or you may have bled to death." He lowered himself into his chair, hand still not leaving mine. "Heather..._what_ happened? Really?"

  


I closed my eyes again. "Didn't they tell you?"

  


"They...they told us that a pirate cut your hand open when you defended Christine."

  


I frowned. What, no undead pirates? No sword-fighting on my part? No medallion, no turning into a skeleton and slashing my own wrist to end a curse? Well...their answer was correct - assuming you thought of me as a pirate, and you thought of ending the curse so Barbossa would die as defending Christine. Fine. Let Francis believe that. "Then they told you the truth."

  


"Oh." There was silence for a long moment, and I simply leaned my head against my pillow, keeping my eyes tightly closed, wishing that this was all some sick dream. Then Francis' voice floated back over me. "Wasn't there...any _men_ that could have defended her?"

  


I felt sick to my stomach. "No. Francis...please. I'm tired. Won't you _please_ let me sleep?"

  


"Oh! Of course!" A light kiss was planted on my forehead, and my hand was squeezed once. "Sleep well, dear one."

  


Right. 

  


Bloody hell.

  
  


***

  
  


I felt considerably less pain the next time I woke up. Unsure as to whether or not Francis was there, and feeling _no_ great desire to talk to him again, I kept my eyes closed. Carefully, trying to move as little as possible, I flexed the fingers on my left hand. No one was holding my hand. I tried to move the fingers on my right hand, but they seemed quite unwilling to respond. 

  


Straining my ears for a moment, I listened for voices, but there were none. 

  


Deciding that it was safe to open my eyes, I did, sighing with relief when I didn't see Private Parsons anywhere. Looking left, where Francis _had_ been sitting, I noticed something I hadn't before - that sitting on the table in the corner was a rather ornate gold crown, and I realized that _that_ was what Jack had sat on my head back in the cave. 

  


Turning my head to my right, I would have jumped if I could have. 

  


A man stood to the right of my bed, leaning casually against the wall, examining his finger nails with great interest. He was almost ageless - face lined and worn, but his back unbent and still young looking. He wore a ridiculously oversized hat, with a large sweeping feather in it. 

  


"Er...hello?" I asked, quite surprised to see this stranger here.

  


He looked up, eyebrows raised, then frowned. "Oh. You're awake. Shame. I'd hoped you'd die in your sleep." As I gaped at him, he added, almost as an after-thought, "It would've saved me a lot of trouble, if you _had_ have just died."

  


I suddenly wished that I could defend myself, but as my right arm - the arm I actually used, of course, go figure - was dead-weight by my side, I didn't think that defending myself was going to be happening anytime soon. "Why? Are you...here to....kill me?"

  


The man sighed dramatically, and sat himself heavily down in the chair Francis had vacated. "Oh, I only _wish_."

  


I gaped at him. Maybe it was these last several weeks spent in the company of high-culture and pirates, but his..._modern_ language grated on me, sounding just, so...so..._wrong_. 

  


He shook his head, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "See, here's the deal. _You_ ain't supposed to be _here_." 

  


"I realized that," I said dryly, swallowing. "And you, perhaps, know _why_ I'm here?"

  


"I was in the theater, behind you, remember?"

  


I gaped. I _did_ remember - he was the odd-looking man with the big hat I'd paid no attention to! "Then...then _how_ did I get here? Was it _you_?!"

  


He coughed, leaning back to rub at the back of his neck. "Yeah..." He said slowly, coughing again. "See...it was a mistake. A rather big opp-si-doodle, if you get my drift. You were never supposed to show up in the _Caribbean_." He frowned. "See, that medallion, right? I figured, hey, it's a good tool, I can use it, she'll be _sure_ to pick _that_ up." He groaned. "Oy vey."

  


I narrowed my eyes. "Wait...if I was never supposed to show up here, yet I _was_ meant to retrieve that medallion...then what was its original purpose?"

  


He coughed again. "Um, well, you were _supposed_ to contract a tropical disease."

  


My jaw dropped. I realize that this is not exactly an attractive expression, but my jaw _did_ drop. "_Tropical disease_?!" I repeated.

  


"Yeah. Look," he held his hands forward. "It's my _job_, see. I'm Charon. I drive the boat that crosses the river Styx. And, well, business has kinda been slow, what with no one believing in the Greek underworld anymore and all that. _So_...in order to not get _fired_, I kinda got stuck with the job of drumming up some business. My job used to bring in lots of revenue, ya see, since I got all those obolus' and all."

  


"Obolus?" I interrupted.

  


"Gold coins," he answered, waving the question away. "But I'm pretty new at the whole thing, so I figured I'd do something simple, like tropical disease. But _no_, I had to get fancy, adding that you needed the gold coin and stuff and...what happens?! Bamo! You in 18th century Caribbean, British controlled territory! _And_ your best friend gets dragged along too! Brilliant!"

  


He scowled, and slumped back in his chair, crossing his arms.

  


I, for my part, gaped at him. 

  


"Let me see if I have this correct," I held my uninjured hand up. "_You_ tried to give me a tropical disease - I _assume_ with the intent to prematurely end my life. But you made a mistake, somehow, and instead, Christine and myself ended up _here_, _now_. And this is going to provide somewhat of a problem for you."

  


When he nodded, I continued, "And so you've come here in the hopes of clearing up the mess?"

  


He nodded again. 

  


"And...how did you intend on..._correcting_ the error?" 

  


"Well, we have a couple options." He leaned forward eagerly, making me lean back a little so he wouldn't be invading my personal bubble. "First....you get to go back, right now, to the very moment you left, nothing has changed, you won't remember a thing, and I promise not to bother you again. Second, you go home, right now, but the three weeks you've spent here have passed there, too. But that way, you get to remember."

  


I frowned. "Charon - that _is_ your name, correct? - Charon. I don't think I like those particular options. Isn't there _anything_ else you could do?"

  


He hesitated. "Yes. Well....you can stay. Here. Live your life here, be happy, have all the life experiences one has in a life. And when you die - wake up back at home, at the exact moment you left. With every memory of the life you'd just lived." 

  


I perked up. "I could _do_ that?"

  


He shook his head. "I wouldn't suggest it, no matter _what_ you're thinking. It's the worst fate you could ever inflict on yourself."

  


I frowned. "Frankly, it sounds like the less of all your evils."

  


He brightened. "Or...you could just die, and that would solve all the problems!"

  


I shot him the most withering glare I could manage. "And what about Christine?"

  


He sighed. "Since she was accidently pulled here along with you...whatever fate you choose, she has to share."

  


I blinked. "She's going to follow me around for the rest of my life?!"

  


"No!" He groaned, rolling his eyes. "It just means, whatever option _you_ pick, she gets stuck with."

  


"Hmm." I frowned, chewing on my lip. "And you'll leave me alone and never bother me again?" 

  


He grinned. "Only if you choose option number one." He paused. "Or if you just die. Then all I gotta do is row you over to the underworld, and then you'll never see me again!"

  


I rolled my eyes. "And once I've made my decision....what happens then?"

  


He shrugged. "I leave, you fall asleep. Wherever you wake up....well, that's where you wake up."

  


I frowned, worrying at the edge of my blanket. "And...do I have to tell you where I want to go?"

  


He shook his head, with a bit of a sigh. "Naw. Modern conveniences - the computers do all the paper-work."

  


Turning away from him, I looked around the room, a small, but still pretty nice cabin. Functional, practical, not too fancy. I drank in every last detail, wishing that there were people here - people that I needed to talk to, to make up my mind. 

  


My bandaged hand reminded me of Elizabeth. Sweet, innocent Elizabeth, kind enough to bandage my wounds, even though I hadn't always been that nice to her.

  


The sword leaning against the wall beside the door was probably one of Will's creations. Peaceful, naive Will, with pirate blood running through his veins. Will that cared enough to rescue me from pirates, even if I didn't always want to be rescued. 

  


The red coat that had been draped on top of my blankets, probably to keep me warmer, was obviously Francis'. I frowned slightly, wondering just what I _would_ do with such a strangely love-sick character. I'd never had to deal with anything like that - it confused me.

  


I didn't need anything to remind me of Christine. Christine who would have no say in what happened, that would have to follow along with whatever decision I ended up making. 

  


My mind battled with the choices, as I bit hard enough on my lip to make it bleed, quite without my noticing. 

  


Glancing over to the right, back towards Charon, my eyes fell on the gold crown, and I sighed, looking up at Charon. "What do I do now?" I whispered.

  


"Just...go back to sleep. You're...well, heck, you're actually asleep right now. You'll wake up. Eventually."

  


I leaned back against the pillows, and Charon stood. "I...I hope you made the right choice."

  


"So do I," I whispered, my eyes suddenly heavy. Closing them, I yawned, whispering, "So do _I._"

  
  


**********************

  
  


That's right, folks. A.....dun dun dun....._cliff-hanger_!!!

  


*Laughs evily* 

  


Okay, so let's review now, (225, now!) And....tell ya what. You tell _me_ what you think you want her to do! 

  
  


And....for the heck of it....PARSONS!

  


Remember to remove spaces....apparently he's hot.

  


angelfire . com / theforce / isbored / parsons . jpg

  
  



	23. Of Choices Right and Wrong

Dear friends.

  


This new chapter will _not_ have any of the review recordings it deserves, and yes, I realize that it is 2 ½ days late. For that, I apologize. I hope to have chapter 24 up by tomorrow, but keep in mind that this will depend greatly on whether or not I can manage to fix my internet. Yes, I broke it. I think author notage is in order. Now go read.

  
  


This is the part of the story where I stand up, hug you all, and start crying. Well, that's ain't gonna happen. 

  


Instead, I ain't gonna stand up! Mwa ha!

  


*cries and huggles, much like Harry and Cho....only no kissing involved. :P*

  


You all gave me 225 reviews! Heck, you gave me _more_ than 225 reviews! Which is why, dear friends, I must ask you all for a favor. My room mate tuned me in for not asking for _enough_ reviews. She says I can get more than 275 with this chapter, (since you already _gave_ me 250!) so I'm being forced (blame her!) to ask for 300. I told her it would take two chapters to get that....but hey! You _could_ always just go out and prove me wrong! 

  
  


In case no one knew, that last chapter was _heavily_ influenced by the "Greek and Roman Civilizations" lecture I had that morning, and yes, we had been talking about Charon, the river Styx, and how dismally depressing the Greek Underworld was. So it influenced. :)

  
  


Okay. _Besides_ not owning Will and Jack and all said affiliates....I now have to admit to not owning Charon and the Styx too, or I heard a rumor that Hades has some _nasty_ lawyers. Pain and Panic, I think?

  
  


******************

  
  


I woke up again.

  


And I flatly refused to open my eyes. Keeping them clenched so tight purple spots started dancing behind them, I refused to acknowledge anything around me. If I never woke - then nothing could happen, no difference would be made, and I could pretend that I'd never had to make any kind of choice.

  


I was just going to stay asleep forever.

  


My stomach grumbled, and I winced. Shoot. Maybe I couldn't stay asleep _forever_.

  


But I _didn't_ want to open my eyes. What if Charon had been lying to me? What if...._he_ had been a dream? Maybe I could just open my eyes and go on with my life - wherever it ended up being! Yeah, that was a plan. Let's just blindly pretend that something that we know was real is _really_ fake, and blunder blindly through life, banging off people and things, until you knock off from walking into a sword. Brilliance.

  


Still squeezing my eyes shut, I wiggled the fingers on my left hand. All good. Then I wiggled the fingers on my right hand. Not so good.

  


In fact....

  


They were still bandaged.

  


My eyes flew open, and I sat bolt upright like someone had just pinched me.

  


My hand was still bandaged! And as I sat up, a red coat slid off my shoulders, and when the blood stopped rushing to my head, a simple, sturdy cabin spun into view.

  


It had worked! I was still here!

  


Ignoring the fact that my right arm still had what equated to a bandaged dead-weight on the end, I pushed the blankets off me, and swung my legs over, bare feet touching rough wooden planks. Relieved to find I still wore the pants and red-coat I'd put on before, I bent, and awkwardly, pulled my boots on with one hand.

  


I stood, then had to wait for minute, waiting for the blood to drain back out of my brain. After an unsteady minute, I headed straight for the door, but instead of barreling out like I wanted, I paused, and cracked the door open a little. Beyond my door was a small, narrow hallway, an open door on either end, one facing sunlight, the other dim lamp light. And directly in front of my door, stood a man with a gun. 

  


Good heavens, I had a _guard_. Back to the door, gun lazily held in one hand, a white-wigged, uniformed man stood directly in my way. 

  


Swallowing, I cleared my throat. "Excuse me," I asked softly, making him jump. "Are you guarding me?"

  


The relieved smile that spread across his face was hardly the kind of thing I would have expected from a guard. "You're awake!" He beamed, stepping back, and swinging the door open for me. "The Governor was quite worried. I was assigned to ensure no pirates tried to accost you."

  


I blinked. "Oh, really?" Stepping out warily, I looked around, my stomach complaining again. "I don't suppose, my good man, that you could direct me to the galley?"

  


"Right through this door, 'ere," he pointed to the lamp-lit opening on the end of the hallway. "Come on right this way, then."

  


"Er..you're....accompanying me?"

  


"Right," he nodded. "Dear me, Parsons would _never_ forgive me if I let you out of my sight."

  


I sighed, though I don't think the guard noticed. Parsons again. The _prime_ reason I had _seriously_ considered that heading back might be a better option. "Where _is_ he, anyway?"

  


"Sleeping," the guard confided, as he took my elbow to steady me as we set down the stairs. "He's stayed at your beside for the past three days. The Commodore ordered him to get some sleep." He paused, then added, "But I'm sure he wouldn't mind being woken up, if you'd like."

  


"Oh, no." I said quickly. "Let him sleep. I just need to get some food."

  


"Right," he beamed, and I sighed again.

  


The galley was nearly empty when we finally reached the bottom of the flight of stairs. More stairs descended yet father, into a dark hole, a hole that I suspected was the brig. The cook was working in the corner, at the massive coal stove, and to my surprise, Christine and Elizabeth sat at one of the tables. 

  


That was where my escort led me, then headed towards the cook as I stood there awkwardly. I didn't say anything, but then Elizabeth looked up, eyes widening. "Heather!" She gasped, and Christine spun to face me.

  


"Heather!" Christine yelped, leaping up to give me the biggest hug I think I'd ever had in my life. 

  


"Watch the hand, kiddo," I said with a smile, though admittably a bit of a wince. She quickly stepped back, in time for Elizabeth to also give me a hug, though thankfully, she watched my hand carefully. "It's good to see you on your feet."

  


"Thank you," I said honestly, then added, with a sheepish grin. "Though I'd really like to get _off_ my feet, so if you don't mind, may I?"

  


Insisting that it was no problem at all, they shifted over on the benches so I could collapse at the table.

  


Resting my arms on the table, I leaned forward, drinking in the presence of my friends. Elizabeth looked a little depressed, I decided, hands worrying on the table, eyes downcast. I knew how she felt - she may have saved the one she loved, but she was doomed to marry another.

  


Christine still wore the yellow dress she'd been wearing on Barbossa's ship. The edges of her shift poked out of the low collar, and the blood-stain -she later informed me that this was actually a wine-stain - was still splashed across her torso. I wondered, briefly, if I should tell her the whole story of how she was stuck here forever, but decided that the details could wait. We had our whole lives here, after all.

  


"So, you'll be wanting to head back to St. George after the wedding?" Elizabeth asked. Christine didn't even lift her head at all, so I knew that she had already been informed, and that she'd already argued it for my sake - and lost.

  


"No." I said firmly, shaking my head. "We're not going back."

  


"At all?" Elizabeth looked surprised, but Christine's head had snapped up to stare at me. 

  


"We're _not_?" She squeaked. 

  


"Not in this lifetime," I said softly, reaching my left hand forward to set it on top of Christine's hands, which had suddenly balled into fists. "It's time we lived life, Christine. We won't get an opportunity like this for some 300 years."

  


Elizabeth gave me an odd look, but I could see Christine doing the mental math, her eyes suddenly lighting up. "Then..." she whispered.

  


I had to smile. "Enjoy it while you can."

  


The guard returned at that moment, neatly cutting off any difficult questions Elizabeth might have had, and set a plate with steaming stew and tough sea-biscuits on the table, along with a tin mug of what smelled like watered-down rum. He looked at Elizabeth and Christine for a moment, then glanced at one of the small windows along the wall. "Do you...suppose you'd be alright if you stayed here for awhile?"

  


"Of course," I smiled my best disarming smile, watching as he relaxed. "Just mind you don't wake up Francis - he needs his rest."

  


"Er-right." He nodded, looking almost embarrassed, like that had been part of his plan. "Well then, you stay with them, then? I'll be by later to bring you back topside."

  


"Thank you," I smiled, hoping he'd take the hint and leave. 

  


He did.

  


Sighing with relief, I picked up the spoon he'd left, and began attempting to eat. Giving up for the moment it took me to take a swig of the drink - just enough rum in it to make me start craving it, not enough to make it _feel_ like I'd had anything to drink - I asked, "So...what's happened since the last time I was conscious?"

  


Christine grinned a little, but Elizabeth looked far more sober. "My father felt the need to announce the 'double weddings', as he insists on calling them. I don't know who, but someone told Jack. He's...not impressed."

  


I winced, and set my spoon down again. "I have to talk to him."

  


Christine shook her head. "He's under lock and key, guarded constantly, and the guards have been given strict instructions to not allow you to speak to him."

  


"Is _that_ so?" I said, and stood up. 

  


"Don't do anything...stupid," Elizabeth implored, and whether she realized she'd picked up one of Jack's mannerisms or not, I had no idea.

  


"Oh, no. I'm not nearly honest enough for that." Fist clenched at my side, I marched towards the stairs, and, ignoring the other's protests, headed straight down. Stalking into the dim circle of light left by an oil lamp, the guard spotted me, and stepped forward, blocking my view of the one cell he was guarding. I could see other cells stretching off in the opposite direction, and I swallowed at the sound of several catcalls and yelps for mercy from the imprisoned pirates. But I ignored those cells, and glared, instead, at the one with a single guard. The cell for dangerous and important prisoners. "Stand aside." I ordered, voice shaking.

  


"I'm afraid I can't do that, miss." He said, grip tight on his musket. 

  


I grit my teeth. "_Stand aside_."

  


"Please."

  


The voice stopped us both in our tracks. It had floated from behind the guard, and as he turned, I realized that Jack was standing in the cell behind him, arms looped through the steel doors, lazily. Lifting an eyebrow at our gaping expressions, he clarified, "_Please_ stand aside. And _do_ let the girl through."

  


"I'm not - " the soldier began, but I help up my hand, motioning for him to stop. 

  


"Then don't _tell_ anyone." I said firmly. "But if I have to do something drastic, I will. Let me through."

  


The soldier hesitated, then lowered his hands. "Alright...but I'm staying here."

  


"Suit yourself," I said, marching around him, and stopping just in front of Jack's cell. "Jack." 

  


He raised an eyebrow. "Captain."

  


"Fine. Captain." I sighed, feeling all the anger draining out of me. "Are you alright?"

  


"Peachy," he said sarcastically, and I blinked. 

  


"Jack, what - ?"

  


"I heard the news. Congratulations." Jack's eyes were dark and stormy, and I shivered a little. I had never seen that look in his eyes before. "Have you set a date yet?"

  


"Jack, this is _not_ my fault!" I couldn't believe that he was going to hold something so _ridiculous_ as my fault. For pete's sake, I really _had_ just given up a heck of a lot for this man! "I don't _want_ to marry the man - Elizabeth's father and the Commodore did this to me!"

  


"Right. You're still marrying him."

  


I clenched my fist, wishing I could with my right one too, so I could use that right hook I'd been working on against those pirates. "Jack! You're....you're...you're _impossible_! I didn't ask for this! I'd thought maybe...maybe...oh, forget it!" I spun away, hugging my arm close to me. At this point, I was chewing my lip, fighting off tears.

  


There was a long moment's silence, then Jack said softly, "Yeah, well. Take care of your husband."

  


"Yeah." I didn't turn back to face him. Instead, I just hissed, "I thought you were _different_, _Captain_." 

  


And then I broke into a run, barreling past a startled guard, and stumbled onto the stairs, but didn't slow down. At the top, Christine and Elizabeth tried to talk to me, to get my attention, but I just dashed past them, taking the stairs two at a time in my desperation to get away. 

  


Hurtling down the hall, I threw open my door, slammed it shut so hard it shook on its hinges, then cast myself down on my bed. Then and only then did I let loose the floodgates, sobbing into my pillow. Fine, _let_ him _be_ that way! Just...just...just let him! Fine, let him just act like a jerk, I'll just marry Francis, and let's see how you feel _then_, Captain! Francis was cute, I suppose, no Sparrow, but - who _needs _a Sparrow, anyway? Certainly not me! I could get by _just fine_ without him!

  


I ignored the opening door, the strange sound that I couldn't identify that floated over from it, and then ignored the feel of the side of my bed dipping under someone's weight. A hand set on my shoulder, and I flinched away. "Heather...what happened?" A soft voice asked, and I relaxed slightly when I realized that it was the last person I had been expecting.

  


"Nothing, Will." I whispered. "Nothing."

  


The hand set itself on my shoulder again. "I may not be an expert at women, Heather, but I think I can tell _you_ well enough by now to know that's you're lying through your teeth."

  


I whimpered, pulling my knees towards my stomach, curling up. "Will..."

  


It surprised me considerably to find him wrap an arm around me in a awkward hug, but I didn't complain, and instead, rolled over and half-sat up to bury my face in his chest. "It's alright," he said softly, patting my head. "You can tell me."

  


"It's Jack," I whispered. 

  


"Ah." Will sighed. "I understand he heard the news. I'm guessing he wasn't pleased?"

  


"Will, he was so _cold_, like he didn't care what happened to me, or..." I sniffed, fresh tears flowing, staining the front of Will's vest with a large wet patch. "He doesn't _care_!"

  


Will sighed, and awkwardly patted my back. "I think, maybe...he feels threatened."

  


"Threatened?" I sniffed.

  


"He seemed quite....ahem...._free_ with you back before I'd even rescued Elizabeth," his voice paused, sounding sad himself. "And she told me that you were quite comfortable with him _yourself_ when on the island. And then, suddenly, he goes away for a few hours...and you're getting married."

  


I glared into his vest. "That was _not my idea_!"

  


"I know, I know." He soothed, and I reluctantly lowered my head back onto his chest. "But I don't think he can believe that."

  


"So what am I supposed to do?" I demanded. "We're going to be arriving back in Port Royal soon, aren't we?"

  


"Tomorrow," he confirmed.

  


"And then _he's_ going to be hanged, and _I'm _going to be married!" I clenched my fist in frustration. "What am I supposed to do?!"

  


Will sighed. "I can't tell you what to do. You'll just have to...follow your own heart."

  


I heaved a sigh, trying to think. 

  


My concentration was broken by a rattling of the door, then sudden pounding and muffled shouting from the other side. Startled, I shot up, and stared, wide eyed, at the doorframe - and the sword effectively lodging it shut.

  


"Your handiwork, I presume?" I asked, raising on eyebrow.

  


Will smiled sheepishly, and handed me a handkerchief. "Wipe your tears, _then_ remove the sword."

  


"And you?" I asked, reaching with the cloth to wipe at my eyes. 

  


"I doubt anyone would be pleased to see me here," he smiled a shy, mischievous smile. "So I'll get out in a more unique manner." Standing up, he headed towards the single small window, throwing it open. "Just...follow your heart, and you can do no wrong."

  


"Thanks," I grinned, trying to rub the moisture off my cheeks. 

  


He nodded once, and swung out the window, grabbing onto a convenient rope to pull himself towards the deck. 

  


I waited a few moments longer, hearing the pounding on the door get ever louder, then stood, took hold of the sword with my own hand, and pulled. It proved to come out much easier than I had expected - it had simply been wedged in the lock. 

  


As soon as the sword was out, the door swung open, and Francis stumbled into the room. "Heather!" he gasped, breathing hard. He had evidently been the one pounding on the door, though Christine and Elizabeth, the Commodore, the Governor, and a few miscellaneous soldiers stood behind him. "Are you alright? I had thought that maybe - "

  


"Yes." I said shortly, breaking off his question. 

  


He blinked, then asked, "Yes, what?"

  


"Yes." I repeated firmly. "I _will_ marry you."

  


He blinked, then a smile spread across his face, to join the beaming grins of Norrington and Swann, and the horror-struck expressions of Christine and Elizabeth. "Heather! This is wonderful!"

  


I jumped as he swung his arms around me, spinning me around. "You've made me the happiest man in the world!" he cheered, and as I spun around, I could tell that the Governor obviously thought that he should feel as joyful as he did. 

  


"Yes, thank you, Francis. _Please_, can you _put me down_?!"

  
  


*****************

  
  
  


Erm. Yes. Such ends chapter 23.

  


*hides under her desk*

  
  


300!

  
  



	24. Author Notage to the Second Power

Author Notage to the 2nd power.

  


Here is where we have what I like to call "The Issue". Jack broke the internet.

  


_Jack_: I did _what_? I don't even know what an internet _is_, much less how one goes about breaking it.

  


_Me_: Accept the blame, I give you a bottle of rum, you go drink yourself silly.

  


_Jack_: Well, then, why didn't you just _say_ so? Of course I broke the internet!

  


_Me_: Good job, Jack. *give him a bottle, shoves him back under her desk* Yeah, see. Told ya'. So _because_ Jack broke the internet, it's not working, which is slightly detrimental to getting new chapters of the story up. That being as it is, I have now created an extra author's note page to explain this and blame everything on Jack. Okay, good. So these are the reviews for chapter 22, not 23, even though it's the one it follows. Go figure.

  
  


Now we get into the _important_ part of this author note. What do I write _next_?

  


I have had a number of suggestions, and my ideas are this: 

  


1) A couple short "what-happened-to-them-now" stories featuring various characters from _this_ story, like Norrington and Parsons.

  


2) A "sequel" to this story, again with Heather, but this time in Lord of the Rings, and post-Caribbean Secrets.

  


3) A Harry Potter story, called "Of Infinite Possibilities". Serious, Harry Potter characters only, no weird stuff (okay, lots of weird stuff. But no weird _Heather_ stuff) story.

  


Or 4) "Welcome to Reality", my Matrix fic, the first chapter of which can be found here on my account on ff. 

  
  


I may eventually work on all of these stories, but it's the _order_ in which I work on them that I'm not sure about. So tell me what you think. I _swear_, I _will_ listen to you!

  
  


Now, onto the _other_ important part of the notes - reviews!

  
  


_Calender: _Hmm....yes, I suppose I _must_ be. And yet, you don't seem to be complaining that much!

  


_Oui: _Well, Yes, that _is_ seeming to be a popular option, isn't it? :D

  


_Maryn: _Yes! Someone _noticed!!!_ *huggles* Yeah, there's a line from the Evanescence song "Hello" in chapter 18. That would be the "Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken". I _love_ that song! And thanks so much for noticing - I was wondering if anyone would! Yay!

  


_Christé: _Aww....am flattered. *blushes, then ducks flying frying pans* It was the broken internet, honest! If it makes you happy, chapter 25 is really _long_....and you're in it! Whee! *huggles*

  


_punkrawk twistie: _*is whapped with a spoon* Ow! Okay, sorry! Here's a new chapter! Glad you like, anyway!

  


_Valor: _You really think so? I dunno, all I know is that I added these stupid cliff-hangers to make people keep reading...I'm glad you like it that much, though! And I know, that _was_ a pretty nasty ending....

  


_Dani: _Glad you liked! 

  


_Tabby Kitten: _My dilemma in writing exactly...it would suck to have to make that choice, really. I'm glad I've never had to - I just do it for my characters! 

  


_Ellina: _*tackle-glomp* Whee! Love these! *huggles* Jack _does_ need a girl! Seriously! And I dunno....maybe I _will_ be writing a Parsons story....mwa ha! 

  


_Arwen16: _Thankies, I'm glad you like it!

  


_Seductive Gyspsy: _That's true, never even thought of that! Corsets _suck_! Glad you liked, though!

  


_Spidergurlroxs: _And so do you! :D I'm glad you liked Charon, though, he was actually pretty fun to write! And there was no Jack cause Jack was in prison, and he actually would have maybe made the choice difficult...see next chapter for that! :P Romeo and Juliet....no, no star-crossed lovers _here_, well, yeah, there is. But no dying! Not until later! And yes, MORE JACK!

  


_Ecila: _Nope, not over yet! Almost there, but not yet! And he _is_ too gorgeous to leave! And in answer to your question: Heather _does_, in a possible sequel, die first. When she wakes up, everything is _exactly_ the same as it was, but everything has frozen. It's like time freezes for her until Christine also wakes up. It only lasts for a few minutes, but yeah, it is kinda a "limbo" thing. Glad I could help. :D

  


_Huntress16: _:D Mwa ha...unexpected is my friend! And thanks, I agree. Bleeding all over the floor _would_ suck! (Except for a vampire, I suppose, but that's besides the point. ;) )

  


_Kery J. Wales: _Hey, no problem, I know I'm evil! I'm glad I managed to make a twist no one expected, too. Whee! And here you are, hope you like the continuation.

  


_Eva: _Sowwee. People seem to like cursing me a lot lately....has something to do with "cliffhangers", I'm told. And somehow, everyone picks that Jack option, too....mm....Jack.

  


_Problem Child: _Thanks, really I love all of you! Personally, I think you're right, although the fact that I'd then be stuck in the future with all the memories and not _them_, that would suck slightly. Glad you like it!

  


_CotG: _I'm evil, remember?! Mwa ha! Enjoy!

  


_Irish: _Yay! A fellow duckie! *pouts* And you _hate_ Heather? Is it only cause she got Jack? Cause I might too....and who does the Commodore get? *rubs hands together gleefully* Ohh....just you wait and see! Mwa ha!

  


_Spidergurlrox: _I hope you can get it now - it wouldn't do any good to die!

  


_Lyssa2: _Ooh - a Rebecca sequel! *is horribly excited* And yes....Jack moments might be hard without a Jack, wouldn't they? And it was an _odd_ idea, anyway. Guess we'll see! ;)

  


_redsun: _Umm...thinking maybe I could make sure you were all going to read the next chapter? Glad you're enjoying!

  


_Sugaricing: _Yeah...funny how cliff-hangers drive me nuts, yet I use them all the time! (Ooh..what a hypo-twit!) 1. _Would_ it break Jack's heart? That's part of her problem with making the decision! 2. With _Will_? Erm...see what I can do.... 3. It _would_ be darn fun!

  


_Completeopposites: _I'm sorry! Really, I am! I continue!

  


_I88er-az: _I have the _exact_ same problem. Author Alerts don't like me. But I'm glad you're reading, and enjoying, and yeah, that _would_ be a sucky dilemma!

  


_Saiyan-girl-cheetah: _Okay, quick, here's the pull-me-back-over-the-edge chapter! Hope you were able to hold on that long! And yay, someone understands! I was worried that maybe people wouldn't realize why that would suck so much....you are a genius!

  


_Oil Pastel: _Oh, my. Where _did_ you get that monkey? And it was seriously _the_ most evil one ever? Success! I mean, um. Oops. 

  


_Quicksilvermad: _I can't tell if you were...my computer can be evil. *cries* And you can actually _believe_ the story? Believe _how_, exactly? Yeppers. Chapter 23, ready and waiting!

  


_Evanescence-Gc: _Thanks! And hey - like the name!

  


_Andi Horton: _Yeah, me and my massive, weird plot-twists. Shoot, even my plot twists have plot twists! Glad you're still reading, still enjoying!

  


_Brem Nakada: _Evil? Sorry....except that you seemed to like it, oddly enough. Mwa ha! And would another Jack kiss make the whole story complete, then? Hmm.....

  


_Lady Riddle: _Heck, fanfiction makes me cry all the time! I'm amazed that I could make anyone cry, but...wow! What _were_ you listening to at the time, BTW?

  


_Unfortunately Mark's Girl: __Back_ to him, are we? Just read that review, and now I'm typing! Is that good? *grins nervously* No chasing down mail trucks!!! And there _will_ be birds in the last chappie!

  



	25. The Beginning of All Things to Come

Okay. My computer (and it's internet connection) hate me. I don't know what happened, or what I ever did to the poor thing, but suffice to say, Jack broke the internet, and so this chapter took a long time. *sobs* I'm _sorry_!!

  


And you all need to make that happy review button say '300' before I put up the epilogue! I mean it!

  
  


_AleniaOceanstar: _She was kinda preoccupied with having her heart be broken!

  


_Saiyan-girl-cheetah: _See, you all are very smart! You all think of such bloody brilliant ideas! *huggles*

  


_CotG: _Because, dear, they _are_ men.

  


_Elderberry: _Erm, yes. Excellent point. But I _did_ want to come up with something Will would say, and I can just imagine him saying that...so.... O.o And that is a .... ahem....._interesting_ variation to the story idea I had......O.o

  


_Lady Riddle: _Well, I'm happy that I can actually write "chemistry". I was trying to make it kinda obvious that they cared, but I couldn't just come out and _say _that. And he _is_ a sexy rogue, ain't he?

  


_I88er-az: _Nope. Didn't get 300. Got darn close, and I am very happy.....And _my_ poor Jack. :D

  


_Ecila: _I feel like crying myself, but thankies so much that I managed to make someone _else_ cry! Aww...*huggles* Thanks!

  


_Ninjix: _Why, thank you, I'm glad you liked it! O.o _Christine_'s gonna marry Francis now? Oh my.

  


_Dalas Ray: _Yay! Someone that understands why I made him like that! *happy rum dance* And I wrote more....no stabby? 

  


_Recovering: _*huggles* And it was okay, then? The _best_ chapter? Better than marooned? Wow. :p Thankies so much!

  


_Sugaricing: _Mwa ha! Yes! It has arrived! Whoot!

  


_Ellina: _Mwaha! I shall join you in laughing at Francis! I agree with you, too. He had a reason....I suppose. But he still was a jerk! *pouts* Huggles Willy, everyone!

  


_Tabby Kitten: _No! *beats her own character with a frying pan....then realizes that the character is herself* Oops.....no! You cannot marry Francesco....Francis! Listen to the reviewer!

  


_Completeopposites: _Mwa ha! Have I a plan? Or am I just......_EVIL_?!? Bwa ha!!!

  


_Anonymous Bulldog: _Why, thank you! I'm glad I portrayed him right!

  


_Huntress16: _Why is Elizabeth marrying Norrington, hmm? Think of that one!

  


_Kery J. Wales: _Thanks so much! Really! And I agree...people better review if they want to read! Mwa ha!

  


_Lady Aura: _Ooh...I have _fans_?! Wowsers. And quite frankly, I would join you in being not happy. No! Dumb characters.....just cause I _wrote_ them....

  


_Irishlass: _Well, _technically_, she could.

  


_Lilrujan: _Ooh.....happiness! missie _ ducaine @ mailcity . com and don't forget to take out the spaces and I would LOVE to get a piccie! *huggles* I have FANS!!!! *huggles again* Ummm....and she's marrying him so that all of you fans can have Jack? :D

  


_Lyssa2: _Can I join you in the shaking of shoulders? And the huggings of Will? And, while I'm at it....I shall hug _you_! *huggles* Aww....I have not yet descended into Mary-Sue-dom? Yay!

  


_Taffy: _Love it! And more comes! Die. Francis. Die.

  


_Jehsahka: _But she said _yes_, not _no_......:D

  


_HyperCaz: _He's a pretty cute prick, though. And he _does_ like her.....

  


_Seductive Gyspy: _Glad you like it! Yay! No complaints!

  


_Kayt Sparrow: _Well...actually, she does something along those lines....though no aspirin.

  


_Brem Nakada: _Yes, I'm _pretty_ sure I realize what I just wrote.....and yes'm. Cannot have that at all. Glad to hear that I managed to capture Will too...it was fun.

  


_Calender: _And _shall_ she? Guess we'll soon see!

  


_Spontaneousxhumanxcombustion: _What is the plan? PLAN CHAPTER!!!

  


_Christé: _Oh, c'mon, you're not used to my plot-twisties _yet_? Sheesh. And Will _can_ read the heart. Heather's just got the _strangest_ way of following it......;) Seeing you soon!

  


_~KKR_~: Mwa ha...I have the most evil plans.......

  
  


Disney, could we please, for just a minute, _pretend_ I owned them? _Please_?!

  
  
  


****************

  
  


"_Tomorrow afternoon._" The words floated over me as I lay in a comfortable, feather down bed, blankets pulled up to my chin. "_The pirate hangs_."

  


I shivered, and snuggled deeper under the blankets. We had arrived in Port Royal that afternoon, and just before we'd all stepped off the ship, Norrington had stood before his crew, and announced Jack's fate. And then we'd been hustled off to the Governor's house, as a meek and quiet Will headed down the cobble-stone streets towards his smithy.

  


We had discovered, upon arrival back at the house, that the repairs were almost completed, and though a number of valuable family heirlooms had disappeared, everything was much the same as it had been when we'd left, 2-? 3-? weeks ago. The seamstress came by that afternoon to deliver the dresses she had made from our measurements, followed soon after by the local bone-saw - that is, the doctor.

  


He had been sent for by the Governor, and immediately asked to see my injuries. I had pointed to my right hand, which was still bandaged.

  


He had taken off the wrappings, and, for the first time, I saw my wounds.

  


Angry red slashes traveled across the inside of my ring and middle fingers and thumb; two parallel stripes marked my palm, and a four inch gash stretched along my wrist. It looked worse, not better, when he washed the dried blood off of it, and I, even with no medical knowledge, had to agree that he must be right when he told me that I would likely never have complete use of my hand again.

  


It was no longer in much danger of bleeding, he said, though he wrapped fresh bandages around my hand and wrist, and ordered me to be careful in water. I nodded, only too glad to keep that simple rule in mind. 

  


I had begged to be allowed to go to sleep once the doctor left, and Governor Swann had agreed. Retreating to the simple chambers he had had the maids quickly prepare for me, I locked the door, and lay on the bed.

  


Tossing off the red-coat uniform I still wore, I threw on a simple nightgown, and found myself staring out at the ocean, my legs feeling weird to be back on ground. But once the sun had sunk below the horizon, I found myself to be very cold, and staring out at a sky with nearly no moon at all. Stars twinkled cheerily at me, but I turned away, staring instead at the candle one of the maids had left, now burned and melted into a stub. 

  


After staring into the flames for awhile, I realized that the candle light was reflecting off of something, but I couldn't place what it was reflecting off of. Sitting up in the bed, I looked around, spotting at last the source of the strange light refractions. Crawling across the bed, I reached forward to pick the golden crown off the side-table where someone had laid it. 

  


Sitting back on the bed, I turned it carefully around in my hands. It was a pretty thing - a little gaudy for my tastes, but beautiful nonetheless. Sighing, I laid it carefully in my lap, eyes no longer seeing it. _What_ was I going to do?

  
  


***

  
  


Christine, meanwhile, had opted to stay downstairs, having donned one of the dresses the seamstress had brought. Dressed in a simple, pink dress, she sat on the chesterfield, hands folded neatly in her lap. 

  


Governor Swann sat in one of the various chairs around the room, and Norrington and Elizabeth sat on the love-seat, Norrington looking quite pleased. He had asked, when arriving, where I was, and was given the answer that I was still "recovering". Christine decided, over the course of the evening, that Norrington really _was_ a nice guy. She realized that Elizabeth's heart belonged to Will, but altogether, she didn't think she was getting too bad of a deal.

  


He actually paid attention when she explained some of what had happened, and looked properly scandalized when she told her story about Barbossa. "That man deserves to be shot!" He asserted firmly, and Christine had to grin.

  


"He was. Jack shot him."

  


His firm expression faded into a weary one, as beside him, Elizabeth's features hardened in what could only be fury. "Ah." 

  


Christine hesitated, then changed the subject. "So...who _is_ Francis Parsons? I'm afraid I really haven't had the honor of meeting him." She mentally gagged at that idea, but had to get her ball rolling.

  


Commodore Norrington smiled, and Christine couldn't help smiling back. "He's one of my best men. He was quite smitten with Miss Heather the moment he saw her. Your sister has chosen well in marrying him."

  


Christine blinked. Her _sister_?! "My sister has?"

  


"Yes," Governor Swann agreed, nodding happily. "She has. You're welcome to stay here after she's married, of course." Then, brightening, he turned to the Commodore. "Really, Norrington, I do believe the boy is deserving of a promotion. Lieutenant, perhaps?"

  


As the two men discussed possible placements for my future husband, Christine considered what they'd just said. _Sisters_. Well, she supposed that made _some_ sense - after all, we _had_ been traveling together. We knew each other awfully well, protected each other to the point where I'd risked death at least once for her, and we _were_ both blondes. She frowned a little, considering the idea, then shrugged a little. Alright. If we were sisters, then we were sisters. At least it would give us an excuse to see each other again. Regularly.

  


"What do you think, Christine?"

  


The Governor's voice broke her train of thought, and she looked up, blinking. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What was that?"

  


"We were just remarking that a spring wedding would be lovely for Heather and Francis. What did you think?"

  


Christine bit her lip, trying to keep from laughing. Hadn't I told her once, as we'd flipped through the pages of a bridal magazine, looking at the dresses, that I thought a spring wedding was the stupidest thing ever? I had told her that, _if_ I ever got married, I wanted to get married either a) in the snow wearing a red cape with white fur trim over a red and green dress; or b) on the deck of an authentic sailing ship, in the Pacific. She grinned. "A spring wedding would be _perfect_."

  


They nodded, and returned to the discussion of weddings and the now-Lieutenant Parsons, as Christine hid a smile behind her hand. Ooh...she was _evil_.

  
  


***

  
  


The birds were singing, the sun was shining, I was warm and cozy, and the sweet smell of johnny-cakes and bacon floated up from downstairs. It seemed to be the perfect morning. For a few moments, I lay in my bed, simply relaxing, trying to pretend that this was just another day in the Caribbean.

  


But it wasn't, and soon I rolled out of the bed, running my left hand through my hair. My old clothes, the "underthings", were laying on the side table, beside the crown. Frowning, I checked the pockets, and found my wallet. Surprised, I opened it, but the paper money inside was soaked, gone. The only things salvageable were the cards, the coins, and, in one of the photo packets, a small slip of paper that made me grin. Tossing a quarter into the photo pouch, I turned, and tossed the rest of the wallet into the fireplace, watching as it flared up in flames. I nodded, sighing, and slid the photo pouch into the waistband of my pantalettes. Grabbing a brush off the vanity, I began to tackle the knotted mane, when a soft knock startled me. "Yes?" I called, turning on the small circular stool to see who it was. 

  


Sarah Parker, the maid, the first person I had seen besides Christine after this whole fiasco started, opened the door and stepped in. "Morning," she said cheerfully, carrying a tray of food. "Are you hungry?"

  


"Very," I said, setting the brush down, and settling myself on the bed so I could eat. "Thank you."

  


"Your welcome," Sarah said humbly, then turned to the wardrobe, sorting through the few items inside. "Are you headed to the hangin' this afternoon?"

  


I swallowed my eggs, and bit my lip. "Yes."

  


Sarah nodded. "Yes, the others are as well. Did you have anything in mind to wear, or shall I choose a dress for you?"

  


"The black one," I said, returning to trying to spoon up eggs with a fork and my left hand.

  


"The black one?" Sarah pulled it from the closet, frowning slightly. "'Tis very..._dark_. Like a mourning dress."

  


"Exactly," I said, pleased to discover that I _did_ have enough mobility in my right hand to handle a chunk of my johnny-cake as I spread butter on it with my other hand. "And I want some practical boots to wear - none of those ridiculous slippers." 

  


Sarah frowned, bending to look at the footwear on the bottom of the wardrobe. "Shall these do?" She asked, holding up a pair of stiff-looking, buckled shoes. 

  


"Certainly not. I need something sturdy, but still _wearable_. Like...those ones." I pointed to the pair of red-coat army boots sitting in the corner with the uniform itself, then took a bite of the johnny-cake. "They were quite nice."

  


"I'm afraid we haven't anything _like_ that," Sarah frowned still, looking a little worried, now. "Perhaps I'll have to go into town, to see if I can find anything that will do."

  


"Oh, really?" My eyes lit up. "Well, then. If you're going into town, I have a few other things I need you to find for me..."

  
  


***

  
  


There was a knock on my bedroom door, then Estrella's voice floated in. "Heather? Lieutenant Parsons is here."

  


I blinked, pausing from my task of attempting to fasten my hat on properly. "Lieutenant Parsons? What, is that his father?"

  


There came a giggle from the other side of the door. "He was promoted, this morning."

  


"Oh, _well_." I had to grin, and returned to tugging on the ribbon under my chin to fasten it. "Tell him I'll be down in a few minutes." Rolling my eyes, I whispered to myself, "Well, fancy _that_. _I'm_ going to be a _Lieutenant's_ wife." I bent to look in the mirror, and nodded. It was a nice hat, as hat's go, a flat straw thing with a plain, thick black ribbon tied around the brim and then down to under my chin. 

  


Standing back, I appraised the entire effect. Simple black dress, high collared, straight, flared sleeves, with a full skirt. I had always thought that I looked good in black. Satisfied, I turned to walk downstairs, boot-clad feet conveniently covered by the floor-sweeping skirt.

  


I opened the door, and didn't make it two steps into the hall before I heard a female voice. "Well, off to a funeral, are we?"

  


Smiling, I turned back, and curtseyed to my best friend. "And we're headed off to a church social, are we?" I jibbed, motioning to her low-necked pale pink dress, and sunhat with pink field-flowers woven into a chain around the crown. 

  


"As I understand it, that's about the attitude at this sort of thing." Christine hesitated, biting her lip. "Look, Heather. I realize that we've...changed things. And I realize that I don't know what's going to happen. But I....I _can't_ believe that you're doing this."

  


"What, going to the hanging, or dressing in black?" I knew what she really meant, but I tried to avoid it.

  


"Getting _married_," she said, cutting right to the chase. "What's come over you? The Heather _I_ know would never give up on that man this easily."

  


I gave a little sad smile, and reached forward to pat her on the shoulder. "There might be a lot of Heather that will surprise you." Sighing, I nodded, and turned to descend the stairs. She followed, silent. 

  


Francis stood near the doorway, talking quietly with Elizabeth and Governor Swann. I had a sudden sense of beginning-of-the-movie _deja-vu_, as he looked up, face lighting up. "Good afternoon, _Lieutenant_ Parsons," I said, with a small smile.

  


"You heard?" He seemed ready to burst into song and dance at any moment, his face glowing with a wide smile, darting forward to take my hand and help me down the last couple of steps, though I _really_ could have managed it on my own. "The Commodore just told me this morning. It's quite an honor." He looked down at me, frowning a little, and said, "Why are you wearing black? You look like you're in mourning."

  


"I am," I said without smiling, lowering my eyes from his confused gaze. "Shall we go?"

  


He looped his arm, and I slowly slid my hand into his arm, biting my lip as I followed him out of the house, and climbed into the carriage. The conversation on the way there was dominated by the Governor and Francis, Elizabeth, Christine and I being mostly silent. 

  


When the carriage stopped bouncing over the cobbled streets, we emerged into the sunlight, and were greeted with festive smiles as we headed towards the archway where we joined a grimly smiling Commodore Norrington. "Sir, ladies, gentlemen," Norrington nodded at each of us in turn, reaching out to gently take Elizabeth's hands. She looked at him without emotion, nodding.

  


I found myself examining Francis, trying to avoid the eyes of the people around me. He wore a blue jacket now, instead of red, a mark of rank. A sword hung from his belt - no doubt one of Will's masterpieces. He looked happy - ecstatic, even, as though, on some level, he had suspected the pirate's intentions to me, and was happy to be getting his rival out of the way for once and for all.

  


A murmur ran through the crowd, and I spun towards the source of the commotion. My breath caught in my throat, for there, being led by two red-coats, hands tied together, was Jack. I watched as they led him through the square, then up the steps and onto the wooden platform in the center of the courtyard. 

  


Commodore Norrington held up a hand, and slowly, the crowd ceased talking, turning to look at the platform and its three occupants - Jack, a man holding a decree, and the executioner. 

  


The official cleared his throat, and held up the paper. "Jack Sparrow, let it be known that you have..."

  


"Captain." I whispered, making Francis turn his head just a little to look at me. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

  


"…for your willful commission of crimes against the crown. Said crimes being numerous in quantity and sinister in nature. The most grievous of these to be cited herewith: piracy, smuggling…" The official continued, though on our vantage point, he was interrupted by Elizabeth's soft voice.

  


"This is _wrong_."

  


"Commodore Norrington is bound by the law," Her father admonished, then added firmly, "As we _all_ are."

  


"…impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy, impersonating a cleric of the Church of England…" the official continued to drone on his list of charges.

  


Jack smirked at an obviously good memory, and grinned at the executioner, who glared back.

  


"…sailing under false colors, arson, kidnaping, looting, poaching, brigandage, pilfering, depravity, depredation and general lawlessness. And for these crimes you have been sentenced to be on this day, hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul." The official finished, and rolled up his decree as the executioner moved towards a silent Jack, suddenly sober.

  


Tearing my eyes away, I looked down with a sigh of relief to see Will moving towards us. Doffing his hat, he called up, "Governor Swann. Commodore. Lieutenant. Ladies. Elizabeth." He smiled, then said, sincerely, " I should have told you every day from the moment I met you…I love you." 

  


The men looked properly scandalized and furious as he turned and walked away, towards the platform, where the executioner was now placing the noose around Jack's neck.

  


Elizabeth looked up, gaze alighting on something. Her eyes widened, then gasped. "Can't breathe." As she collapsed onto the flagstones, the drums began to sound.

  


"Elizabeth!" The Governor gasped, and he and Norrington rushed to help him. For my part, I was immensely glad for the distraction the brightly colored parrot had provided. 

  


"Francis," I whispered, and when he leaned over to ask me what I wanted, I grabbed the sword from his belt, and whipped it out as he let out a cry of surprise. "Sorry," I told him, honestly, then gripped the sword tighter in my left hand, and jumped down to the courtyard. 

  


"Heather!" He cried, but it was drowned out to my ears by Will's louder shout.

  


"Move!"

  


People darted out of my way as I charged forward, cursing my skirts, and ducked under the scaffold. Jack's feet had a tenuous hold on the sword sticking into the trapdoor, the only thing between him and a 'short drop and a sudden stop'.

  


Bracing my shoulders, I ducked under the sword, and caught his feet, pushing upwards. Now Jack's full weight was on my back, which wasn't all that easy, as the man _was_ pretty heavy. Startled at the sudden support, he looked down, eyes widening.

  


"What're you..." He never got to finish that question, for at that moment, Will cut the rope around Jack's neck, and I dropped forward, letting him hit the ground himself. He backed a step away from the sword embedded in the trapdoor, then turned to look at me with an equally wary eye. "What do ye _think_ yer doing?!"

  


"Saving you," I said not-so calmly, using Francis' sword to slice through the ropes around his wrist. He grabbed another, just as Will dropped under the scaffold to join us. 

  


He gave me a surprised glance, then moved right on past. "Let's _move_!"

  


And move we did. Will and Jack seemed to move into a certain rhythm, a groove, as though they had been training together all along. I could never pretend that I matched them, or, even that I caught up with them. Not only was I severely inexperienced with swords, but I was forced to use my other hand, _and_ I was in a skirt. But I _was_ amazed at how well I _did_ manage to keep up. Twice, as we headed towards the tower, I found myself with my back to Jack's fending of soldiers best I could, and once, managed a neat little duck under Will's swinging arm as he took out a soldier, emerging on the other side to engage a soldier that had been aiming for Will.

  


We _were_ doing well, until, in an unfortunate twist of fate, we were surrounded - by soldiers with guns. Following the men's lead, I moved with my back to the other two, forming a neat little triangle, and swept around the circle, crossing my sword with the pike on the front of each musket.

  


And then we waited, until Norrington stood close, shaking his head.

  


" I thought we might have to endure some manner of ill conceived escape attempt, but not from you." He paused, eyebrows furrowed as he looked directly at me. "And _certainly_ not from you."

  


Governor Swann stepped forward, flabbergasted. "On our return to Port Royal, I granted you clemency, and this is how you thank me? I took you into my _home_, and this is how you repay my generosity? By throwing in your lot with him? He's a pirate!"

  


"And a _good man_." Jack smirked, proudly gesturing towards chest, as Will defended him. "If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. At least my conscience will be clear."

  


"And if the executioner desires a skirt to hang from his gallows, then his wish will be granted. I too, shall die with the knowledge that I have done what is _right_, laws or no laws." I drew myself up, shooting Norrington the hardest glare I could manage.

  


He looked at me, frowning, then turned away, and addressed Will. "You forget your place, Turner."

  


"It's right here, between you and Jack."

  


The line of soldiers suddenly parted, as Elizabeth pushed her way through, to stand at Will's side. "As is mine."

  


"And mine," I agreed, holding my sword as steady as I could.

  


"Elizabeth! Lower your weapons!" Governor Swann waved madly at the soldiers. "For goodness' sake, _put them down_!"

  


Around the ring, the guns lowered, and I breathed a little sigh of relief, raising an eyebrow to look at Christine, who stared, open-mouthed, at me from outside the ring of soldiers. 

  


"So this is where your heart truly lies, then?" Norrington asked softly, looking rather depressed.

  


"It is." Elizabeth said firmly, tightening her grip on Will's arm.

  


Meanwhile, behind me, I glanced back to see Jack's eyes focused on something. I glanced to where he was looking, and had to grin when I spotted the distinctive blue parrot. "Well! I'm actually feeling rather good about this!" Grinning, he turned to the Governor. "I think we've all arrived at a very special place, eh? Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically?" Turning his attention to the Commodore next, "I want you to know that I was rooting for you, mate. Know that." 

  


His attention turned to Francis next, eyes clouded. "And you, mate. Hurt her...and you'll be facing the wrath of a pirate captain so evil, hell itself spit him back out." Grinning again, Jack turned to Elizabeth, and gave her a tragic expression. "Elizabeth …it would never have worked between us, darling. I'm sorry. Will …nice hat. Christine - I'm glad you're not the worse for wear from my first mate. Find yourself a nice pirate, right?" Glancing at me once, he shot me a, "Keep yourself safe, savvy?"

  


He took only one step backwards before I spoke up. "Jack Sparrow, don't you _dare_ think you're getting away _that_ easily."

  


Blinking, he didn't have time to react when I dropped the sword, and reached forward, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Yanking him forward the two steps, and tilting my head up, kissed him as fiercely as I could manage. Had the situation been different, and had I been any less forceful, it would have been quite evident that I had no idea what I was doing, but I let instinct guide me, one hand crushing folds of his shirt, the other drifting to the back of his neck. Moving my lips hungrily over his, I tried to absorb the taste of him - ocean and rum - trying to imprint that moment on my lips. 

  


He responded almost immediately, one hand sliding around my waist to pull me into his chest, the other drifting over my cheek. He seemed almost as desperate as I, but much as I would have liked to pretend that we were alone, there was a whole crowd gaping at us. At last, I pushed him away, licking my bruised lips. "There. Now you can go."

  


He paused a moment, then nodded once. Backing up, he raised his voice again. "Men! This is the day that you will always remember as the day that you – "

  


And with that, he tripped over the battlement wall, and crashed into the ocean.

  


I actually laughed out loud as Gillette shook his head. " Idiot! He has nowhere to go but back to the noose." 

  


"Sail, ho!" A sentry yelled, and there, plain as day, was the _Black Pearl_, and it was quite obvious that that was precisely where Jack was headed.

  


"What's your plan of action? Sir?" Gillette demanded, and I barely caught Swann's response regarding piracy sometimes being the right course of action as I turned to look at Elizabeth, Will, Christine and Francis. 

  


"I really _am_ sorry," I admitted, noting Francis' wide, hurt puppy-dog eyes. "Christine, snag yourself a good military man. You deserve one. Elizabeth, Will, I trust that the wedding will be lovely. Someday you'll have to tell me all about it."

  


"And where will _you_ be, that you won't be there to see it?" Norrington demanded, startling me a little, as I hadn't realized that he was there. 

  


"At sea, sir." I nodded, and walked backwards, slowly, and when I reached the cusp of the wall that Jack had fallen over, I stepped up onto it, black dress whipping around me. "Farewell. I wish you all the best of all luck." I saluted, and then I simply leaned back, skirts swirling as I fell straight down towards the water.

  


I broke the surface of the ocean with more force than I would have expected, and as my skirts took on water, I began to head straight down, exactly as Elizabeth had done, not so long ago. Only I was slightly more prepared than Elizabeth had been.

  


Rolling up the edge of my right cuff, I pulled the dagger I'd hidden in my sleeve out. Carefully, I cut the buttons off the front of my dress, hand shaking a little as the air in my lungs began to run out. Kicking upward, I broke the surface of the water with a gasp, then, with the front of my dress crudely cut open, I wriggled my arms out of the sleeves, then kicked the rest of the dress off.

  


Underneath were the items I had asked Sarah to fetch from town for me. Now much freer for movement in a loose white shirt, a tightly fitted vest, fitted breeches and the boots, I yanked the hat off by it's ribbons, and began swimming.

  


I'm not a particularly strong swimmer, but I have good endurance, if not speed. I could see Jack some ways ahead, and was rather relieved that the _Pearl_ was growing steadily larger as I neared it. I could see when Jack was hauled over the side with a rope, greeting Gibbs, having his hat handed to him by Cotton. As AnaMaria laid his coat over his shoulders, I was by now close enough to feel relief flooding into me when one of the crew members called, "Captain! We have a swimmer!"

  


Those on deck turned, and though I wasn't close enough to see their expressions, I _could_ see Gibbs bend, and a moment later, throw something into the water. When the rope hit the water only a couple feet from me, I reached forward to grasp it, and let them tow me forward, and haul me up over the side.

  


I bent over, trying to catch my breath, and laughed. "I thank you sincerely, Gibbs, for _not_ keeping to the code."

  


He laughed, and I jumped as a heavy coat dropped over my shoulders, followed a moment later by the owner's arm. "And here I was thinkin' that _that_ was your way of saying goodbye."

  


"That, Jack," I grinned, resting my head on his shoulder as he led us towards the quarter-deck, "was my way of saying that I didn't _want_ to say goodbye."

  


He grinned, his eyes taking on a dreamy expression as he ran his hand over the wheel. "She's a beauty, ain't she?"

  


"And she's _all_ yours, Jack." I grinned back, quite comfortable wrapped in his arm.

  


"Aye, that ye are, luv," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, then before I could make any kind of response to _that_ non sequitur, he bellowed, "On deck you scabrous dogs! Man the braces!" 

  


When his crew rushed to do as ordered, smiles on their own faces, he pulled me a little closer, resting his chin in my hair. "Luv, you never _did_ tell that Parsons fellow what your surname is. He asked me."

  


"Really?" I looked up at him, then grinned. "Morgan. My surname is Morgan."

  


There was a pause, then Jack said slowly, "As in the late and great _Captain_ Morgan? The _pirate_?"

  


I smirked. No one was going to ever argue otherwise. "My father."

  


"You mean to tell me," he stepped back, looking at me with barely contained mirth, "all this time, everyone's been treating you like a proper lady, granddaughter of a Governor, and all along, you're a _pirate whelp_?!"

  


"Yep." I shrugged, biting the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing myself. 

  


Jack did no such thing. He threw back his head, and roared with laughter, side shaking as he expressed his opinion of the matter. "You, luv, are bloody priceless," he laughed, then leaned down a little to plant his mouth on mine.

  


Unlike our last kiss, this one was surprisingly gentle, or at least as gentle as the pirate got. I made no objections, instead reaching up to tangle my fingers in his knotted, braided, wind-swept, ocean-soaked hair, eagerly responding to his advances. He broke the kiss off slowly, pulling me close to his chest. Looking up, I could see in the descending twilight, Will and Elizabeth on the bell-tower, imitating us.

  


Jack, who had also seen it, grinned, and lightly kissed the top of my head. "Now...bring me that horizon."

  


I reached around his waist to snatch the compass of his belt, then opened it up, holding it so I could look at it for a moment, then held it up a little, so he could see the slightly swaying needle. "We're devils and black sheep," I sang softly, and he grinned.

  


"And really bad eggs. Drink up, my hearties..."

  


"Yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."

  
  


*****************

  
  


Just the epilogue left, folks! Aww.....isn't that _cute?!_

  
  


Remember, 300 reviews in that review page, or no epilogue!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	26. One End, and One Beginning

t*sniffs* This, folks is it. The ending of a good thing. *sniffs* It was good while it lasted....*cries*

  


This is so _sad_!

  


So remember to review on what you think I should work on next: short after stories to this one; CS sequel with LotR; "serious" HP stuff; or _serious_ Matrix. Tell me what you think!

  
  


_Brem Nakada: _Because Jack's like that. He _would_ break the internet just when I needed it, if he thought it'd make me pay attention to him instead....:) What happens Next stories, and then Matrix? Wow...my first vote for Matrix! I'm impressed! And I'm glad you liked the story that much....it caused _trears_? Wow....

  


_Lyssa2: _Mary Sue can't even get that good of a kiss?! Wowsers...I have _outdone_ Mary Sue at something?! Wow.... hey, I manage pretty well to keep this on my mind all day....;) Sequels? Whoot!

  


_BeautyDark: _You _know_ I'm not perfect, sheesh..... and LotR? With a loopy girl? Mwa ha! And really, I _am_ touched, so chasing mail trucks should be NO problem!

  


_Kay - cocacat15:_ Aww...thanks! And I agree - I don't usually read that kind of story either, and I _certainly_ never expected to get this many reviewers! Thanks! And as for the song....it _does_ bloody fit! It's perfect! *sets computer to repeat*

  


_AleniaOceanstar: _Oh...but I _like_ seeing my name in the story.....and 'sides, you have your halfling, I have my pirate! It's even-stevens!

  


_Valor: _I can see that point - option one or two are slightly less...painful?

  


_Saiyan-girl-cheetah: _LotR? And actually, I'm considering there being no Christine _in_ that one....just my roommate, Ramya! :) Although I _could_ stick Christine in there too.....mm...dilemmas. And I dunno about any reincarnations of Jack....we may have to wait for the second movie for more Jack, unless I do those little "what happens next" stories. Meh....glad you liked! And you _are_ smart!!! LotR? With bird man? Mwa ha!!!

  


_Lilrujan: _*huggles* I love you guys....I love the piccie....I love your reviews! I love you!!! (And I love Jack, but that's besides the point!) I'm so glad you liked!

  


_Maat: _Aww...don't cry! Just cause this story's over doesn't mean I'm gonna quit....

  


_Sugaricing: _Meep........ writing! Writing! No hunting down! *hides under desk* And I know this story was kinda one-sided.....should I write the "after-stories" there's lots of Christine goodness!

  


_Firedragonfly: _Aww...was it that predictable? *sigh* I'll work on that.....and yeah, that's true, she _didn't_ jump! Mwa ha!

  
  


Well....no more chapters.....*sniff*....but you can keep on reviewing! And keep on reading my other stuff...I'll make some more stories, and you can keep reviewing! I'll love you forever!

  
  


Well, after 25 chapters and a whole heck of a lot of reviews, I still don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. Disney, in their infinite wealth, still own it. I hope though, that they can find it in their hearts to not sue me. It'd be a waste of time, anyway. I have nothing. Except Heather. But I don't think they want her. Oh, and Parsons. Yes, ladies, the boy is my property. And yes, he really _does_ look that good. They can have him though, if they offer enough. ;D

  
  


*****************

  
  


The heavy, leather-bound cover of the book closed, a scarred hand tracing the designs on the front. It's writer sighed, and set down her fountain pen, capping the inkwell. For a long moment, she just stared at the book, then pushed it away, standing. 

  


"All done?" A soft voice said in her ear, but she didn't even jump, despite the other's stealthy approach. Instead, she smiled, reaching her hands back to hold those resting on her shoulders. 

  


"Finally."

  


The person behind her wrapped his arms around her, grinning mischievously. "Does this mean I can read it now?"

  


"Jack," she sighed, craning her neck so she could see his face. "You know you can't read it."

  


"And why not? I'll have you know that I _can_ read," he grinned, leaning forward to nibble on her earlobe.

  


She laughed, reaching her hand up to touch his cheek. "Well, I certainly didn't spend all that time teaching you so you'd forget it."

  


"Then what are you going to do with it?" He asked, mouth now grazing her jaw.

  


"Put it in a box, and bury it." She answered, laughing again as his kisses still made her squirm. "Jack!"

  


"Hmm?" He smiled, kissing along her cheek line. She turned her head away, but unfazed, he began kissing the spot where her neck met her shoulder instead. 

  


"_Jack_," she sighed, though she really didn't seem to mind. "Do you have something I could put it in?"

  


Jack sighed, and stepped back, shaking his head a little, but still smiling. "You really know how to ruin a mood, you know that?" Smirking, he headed over to the bed in the center of the room, dropping to his knees. Bending over to reach under the bed, he sat up a few moments later, holding a small, dark wood chest in his hands. Standing, he set it on the bed, and she picked up the book. 

  


Opening the lid, he reached his hand out for the book, which he took, and set inside. It fit perfectly, with no real room to spare. She pulled the book back out, removed something from the pocket of her vest, and dropped it in. Setting the book back on top, she closed the lid, and Jack locked it. "See? I found this box awhile back, on that nice little Spanish vessel from, what, 3 years ago?" He picked the box up, turning it over, then setting it on the floor, before sitting on the bed. "Thought it was the perfect size for that book of yours, whatever you decided to do with it." He glanced away from her, then towards the bed, then back to her, patting the mattress beside him. 

  


She laughed, but didn't sit. Instead, she leaned over to kiss him on the end of the nose, then said, "We need to go to the Americas, Jack. Florida."

  


Jack lifted an eyebrow. "The Americas, luv? That's a bit out of our territory."

  


She gave him a pleading, puppy dog look. "Please?"

  


"Oh, don't do that, you _know_ I can never resist that!"

  


"Precisely," she grinned, then sat on his lap, leaning forward. "Pretty, pretty please? I _promise_ I'll be _good_..."

  


"Oh, will you now?" He grinned, leaning forward so that their faces were less than an inch apart. "Really, really good?"

  


"As good as a pirate queen _can_ be," she smirked, moving in to kiss him when the door to their room crashed open. 

  


Letting out a yelp of surprise, she fell back, tumbling off Jack's lap and landing in an unceremonious pile on the floor. Jack leapt to his feet, flushing a little. "Yes?"

  


A _very_ short person ran into the room, jumping onto the woman on the floor with a giggle. As she let out a gasp of lost breath, she reached up, wrapping her arms around her attacker. "Hey, you little monster! I thought you were helping AnaMaria?"

  


The "attacker", an eight year old boy, wrinkled his nose. "That's _boring_. I already know _how_ to tie a knot."

  


"Well, do ye now," Jack laughed, reaching down to grab the boy around his middle, and swinging him up into the air. The boy giggled, and as Jack dropped him to sit on his hip, he wrapped his arms around the pirate's neck. "But do you know proper _pirate_ knots, ya whelp?"

  


She pulled herself to her feet, and ruffled the boy's blonde hair. He laughed, ducking his head under Jack's chin, hiding behind the captain's long hair. "_Course_ I do! I've known since _forever_!"

  


"Well, good job then," Jack grinned, reaching up to tickle under the boy's chin. "Wouldn't do any good for a pirate to _not_ know his knots!"

  


"And you wouldn't want to shame your father, now, would you, Will?" She grinned, leaning down to look into the boys eyes. "Because the most notorious pirate of the seven seas would be _mighty_ shamed if his only son didn't know how to tie a knot!"

  


Will stuck out his tongue, which earned him a severe tickling from his father. "Now, boy," he lectured, trying to keep a straight face as the boy giggled. "Ye never, _never_ insult a lady's honor, right?"

  


"She's not a lady," Will protested, giggling. "She's _mommy_!"

  


"Ye got _that_ right, ye whelp," she laughed, reaching to take her son from her husband's arms. "And I'm the pirate queen, and don't ye _ever_ forget that!" She rubbed her nose into her sons, laughing at his sparkling black eyes so much like his fathers. "But aren't _you_ supposed to be practicing with Red now, young man?"

  


"Yeah," he wrinkled his freckled nose, and wriggled out of her arms. "But how come I gotta practice so _much_?"

  


Jack reached out to ruffle his son's hair. "You practice with the sword three hours a day, so that when you meet a red-coat, you can kill it."

  


Will frowned, but did as he was told, and raced out, calling for the young, flame-haired pirate, who stopped polishing his blade immediately to turn to his task of training the boy to use a sword.

  


"I suppose we'd best tell them we're headed to the Americas, then," Jack sighed, and looped his arm through his wife's. Arm in arm, they headed onto the deck, waving to the first mate, who waved back, from the quarter deck. They crossed the deck quickly, boots clicking on the wooden deck, and mounting the steps to the raised platform. 

  


The first mate leaned against the wheel, and grinned. "So the captain and his wench emerge back into the land of the living."

  


Jack laughed. "AnaMaria, you don't ever change, do you?"

  


The woman grinned, glancing at her fellow female pirate, who grinned back. "You wouldn't have it any other way, _captain_."

  


"She's the only thing that keeps you honest, captain," the woman on his arm grinned, and he laughed.

  


"Honest? Oh no, luv, I'm quite dishonest, I assure you."

  


She grinned, and pointed out, "At least you haven't 'borrowed' any ships lately, _luv_."

  


He laughed, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on her lips. Turning back to his first mate, he told her, "We have a slight change in course. We're heading for the Americas. Florida." 

  


AnaMaria raised an eyebrow. "I assume, captain, that there's a good reason?"

  


"What, you mean _besides_ snatching us a few fine supply ships?" He grinned. "Of course. We have something to...ah, deliver."

  


"Right," AnaMaria grinned, shaking her head. "Well, it's a good thing _I_ have a compass that actually works, Captain. Now get. You two are as bad as newlyweds."

  


Jack grinned. "That, luv, was a compliment."

  


"Go!" AnaMaria laughed, and they did, laughing. 

  


Arriving back in their cabin, Jack picked the box off the floor, setting it on the desk, turning as he heard the strangest noise from the door. Turning, he saw her step back, crossing her arms, pleased. A sword stuck out of the door, firmly wedged in the lock.

  


"What-?" he began, laughing, but she just turned away, draping her arms around his neck.

  


"The blacksmith taught me how to do that, last time we set shore. Ain't _no_ way anyone's getting in here." she grinned, playing his a lock of his hair. "Now, where were we?"

  


Jack laughed, kissing her lightly. "You _are_ as bad as a newly-wed."

  


"Naw." She kissed him, pulling back to whisper, "_Now_ I know what I'm doing."

  
  


***

  
  


The heavy shovel broke through the dirt, twisting, coming up with a full bucket of fresh black earth. The shovel and it's broad arm swung around, depositing the soil into the waiting bucket on the back of the truck. Swinging back into the hole, the shovel dug again, then a sharp clang rang through the air, and the operator stopped.

  


"Damn, rock," the foreman groaned, then waved to one of the men working on the concrete laying a few yards away. "Roberts! Grab a shovel, we've got us a rock!"

  


Roberts said something to one of the men around him, who moved to take his place holding the end of the concrete chute, and jogged over, pausing only to bend and grab a shovel. "So where's this rock?"

  


"Right there," the foreman pointed into the hole, and the spot where the shovel had stopped. Roberts nodded, and jumped down into the hole, striking at the area around the stone with his shovel. After only a few minutes of digging, he paused, leaning in to look at the place he'd been digging, then called up to the foreman.

  


"Hey, boss! There's something _under_ this rock!"

  


Shaking his head, the foreman climbed down into the hole, looking at what Roberts had dug up. "What the heck _is_ that?"

  


Roberts jabbed at the stone, and the rock suddenly shifted, slipping out of the dirt, tumbling past them, and onto the bottom of the hole. But they ignored it, staring instead at what its movement had revealed. 

  


Two rusted, decaying swords lay crossed, over the corner of a small wooden chest. A few more careful shovelfuls of dirt, and Roberts was able to lean over and remove the cutlasses, then the chest, which creaked, as though it was rotten, but the lock held tight against his fingers. "What d'ya suppose it _is_?" He asked, examining the lock with interest, while the foreman turned one of the swords over in his hands. 

  


"I dunno. But we'll need to get it to the land owners. It's their problem."

  


"What if it's treasure, or something?" Roberts asked, looking up eagerly at his boss.

  


The foreman rolled his eyes. "There weren't any pirate caches in _Florida_, Roberts. Go find yourself a little island, and _then_ you'll find some treasure. This'll be some wise guy's idea of a joke. C'mon, lets get these up to the boss. Then _he_ can see what kind of junk he's got."

  
  


***

  
  


Devon Anderson hovered on the other side of his boss' desk, as the man examined the lock on the front of the box. "What do you suppose it _is_?" Devon asked eagerly, notepad and pen ready at a moment's notice to begin to take notes. "Treasure, maybe?"

  


His boss looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Not likely. Now hand me that letter opener, will you?"

  


Devon snatched it up from where it sat by his hand, and leaned across the desk to lay it in his boss' grip. Nodding his thanks, the man then examined the lock for another moment, before using the tip of the letter opener to flake the dirt out of the opening. Deciding enough was cleared out, he stuck it in, turning carefully, until he heard a small click.

  


Devon bounced in place, _far_ more excited to see what was inside, so when the other flipped the lid open to reveal what was inside, he let out a disappointed sigh. "Aww...it's just a _book_."

  


Waving away the dust and musty smell of something that has been denied air for hundreds of years, the man reached into the box, removing the book. Setting it carefully on the desk, he cracked the cover open. It creaked like it was going to break, but it didn't, merely falling open so they could see the untidy scrawl across the yellowed pages, in paled black ink.

  


Devon lowered himself into the desk on the other side of his boss' desk as his superior touched his finger to the page, and began to read aloud.

  


_1743_

  


_Dear Sir/Madam,_

  


_ As near as I can figure, this is the year 1743. My sense of time has been skewed somewhat, and there has never been a real need, in these last twenty years, to pay any attention to what exact date it is._

  


_ But in the future, dates and times will be important. And this is why I am writing this. So that as time goes on, I will not be forgotten. And time will not forget this story._

  


_ On July 9th, 2003, the Disney corporation is going to release a movie, Pirates of the Caribbean, starring Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Kiera Knightly, and Geoffrey Rush. The movie is going to be a blockbuster, a sequel already in the works. _

  


_ I know you won't believe me. That is why I have included three pages after this page and before I begin the actual story, for you to carbon date, or however you intend to test the age of this paper. I can assure you, it _is_ as old as I claim._

  


_ There is no simple way of telling this story. The most simplistic answer is to say that I traveled through time, and wrote this story so that what happened to me would not be forgotten. The more complex, and slightly more believable, version is within the pages of this book. All I ask is that you read this, open minded. _

  


_ Don't bother to check history books for mention of me, or Jack Sparrow, or Will Turner, or any of the others mentioned within these pages. I doubt you'll find them. I don't think we exist in the schema of history, for all our collective contributions to it. This doesn't bother so much as the simple fact that I'm going to be forgotten. All I ask is that, somehow, you remember me - nothing fancy. I just don't want to be forgotten._

  


_ Thank you,_

  


_Heather Morgan_

  


Turning the page, he found the promised three blank pages, then, from the top of the next page following, he read, "_I wish I could tell you how it happened._"

  


As his boss sat back, frowning, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Devon wrinkled his nose, scowling. "That's _ridiculous_. I mean, really. What kind of idiots does this 'Heather Morgan' _take_ us for?"

  


"Smart ones," his boss said slowly, reaching into the box again. From inside, he removed a small, plastic photo pouch, removing from it a frail slip of paper, and a quarter. 

  


"There, see that?" Devon demanded, pointing at the two items laying on the desk. "_Modern_! No way we're dumb enough to believe _that_!"

  


His boss handed him the quarter, eyes dark and thoughtful. "Look at the quarter, Anderson."

  


Devon did so, then shrugged. "It's a Canadian quarter. So?"

  


"Look at the date."

  


Devon blinked, then searched on the silver surface for a date. There, beside the caribou's antlers, to the right. His eyes widened, then looked up in disbelief. "That's not _possible_!"

  


"2002." His boss said calmly, holding his hand out for the quarter. "How did a quarter, not to be minted for _two years_, get in a box, buried in the ground? In a box, buried in the 1700s?"

  


"It...it's a fluke. A _joke_," Devon stressed, deciding that he liked that explanation. "A stupid joke."

  


"Mmm." His boss picked up the small slip of paper, and stared at it for a long moment, before asking, "Tell me, Anderson, what does this look like?"

  


Devon leaned forward, squinting his eyes to read the slip of paper. "Umm...a movie theater ticket stub."

  


"Right. And the date?"

  


"August 31s_t__....2003_."

  


"And what movie?"

  


Devon swallowed, then whispered, "Disney's _Pirates of the Caribbean_: _The Curse of the Black Pearl_."

  


His boss nodded, leaning back in his seat. "Interesting. A fake, Anderson?"

  


Devon licked his lips. "Umm...well..."

  


The other ignored his attempts to invent an answer. Instead, he turned to the book, returning to reading the scrawled words, now silently. 

  


After about a half hour, Devon stood, intending to leave, when, not looking up, his boss said, "Before you go, Anderson, call Jeff for me, will you?"

  


Devon blinked. "The...screenwriter?"

  


"Right." His superior looked up then, a grin playing on his lips. "We only have three years, Anderson, to get this movie filmed. We'd best start now."

  


***********************

  


Whee! And the story ENDS!!!!

  


*cries*

  


Boo...so it was a dumb ending. I liked it. :P

  


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